


Life Is Inevitable... In a Good Way

by Roski



Series: Epsilon [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Babies, Cuddling & Snuggling, Family Bonding, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Nesting, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Scent Marking, Scenting, Sleepy Cuddles, Teen Pregnancy, Teenage Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 22
Words: 42,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25028827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roski/pseuds/Roski
Summary: The third trimester winds down cushioned by the support of friends, and then here come the pups!As new parents, Milo and A.W. have to deal with the physical, emotional, and financial tolls that their sons put upon them. But in return comes the sweetness of bonding with their infants, teaching them about the world around them that they themselves are still learning to navigate.Between two reluctant sets of parents will A.W. and Milo ever make it out of this little town and have a shot at college to help give their pups a better life not living in their father's childhood bedroom?
Relationships: Milo McCoy/A.W. Gibbs
Series: Epsilon [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812382
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. Third Trimester

The third trimester came upon us fast along with the impending doom of finals. My overall GPA out of one hundred was a seventy four point six, which was above the passing sixty and definitely higher than the fifty three I’d been pulling there for a while. A.W.’s grade hadn’t suffered as much, but he wasn’t quite where he’d used to be, now having an eighty two. Course, Matthew was rearing to get planning the tutoring schedules and groups for finals, but we had one last hurrah to prepare for: prom. As juniors, we were allowed to go to “Senior Prom”. When I was younger, I’d been just as obsessed as Ronnie at the idea of something wild, but the older I got, it just seemed like one more poorly lit mosh pit full of the teenagers I’d known nearly all my life. The seniors were excited for it, though, and already the ‘promposals’ had been hitting: in the parking lot, the cafeteria, during study hall, Alphas, Betas, and Omegas alike coming up with these elaborate gestures for who they were dating, going steady with, their crushes, and their friends. Even if they didn’t really spend any time together, it was enough to say you’d been asked to prom and had the pictures to prove it.

Now, Beaver wanted our help to ask Fallow to prom, which was a surprise to most of us, considering we didn’t even know that they talked– which they didn’t. Fallow had apparently once taken notes for him after he’d messed up his wrist after chopping some wood back in winter, and he’d been casually interested ever since. The way he put it, he just wanted to have an excuse to talk to her and get to know her better, even if it led to nowhere. Abby had slung her shoulder around him and reminded him, “It could lead to a damn good friendship, Beaver. A damn good one.”

I managed to get away from Matthew (A.W. wasn’t so lucky) to go over to Beaver’s house with Hannah and Declan and put together a proper promposal. The way our buddy Beaves dressed in soft plaids and suspenders over his skinny shoulders matched his pseudo-log cabin house in a way his littermate’s style didn’t. Wren was ignoring their math homework to hang out with us, their six littler siblings bouncing up and downstairs with Prince the dog. It was a big family due to their Omega father. The eldest pair: two Betas, Ellis and Joseph, were in college. Then came Beaver and Wren. After that was the singleton Willow, a shy Omega girl in middle school. Then the eight-year old quads: Ruth (Omega), Noah (Omega), Jonah (Alpha), and Grace (Beta). Finally, the twins Tracey (Beta) and Tobias (Alpha), who were only five. That made for eleven kids in total, and the Montgomery-Lee parents were very lucky to both have stable jobs, one dad in real estate, the other in computer programming. 

Beaver had us set up on the upstairs livingroom’s coffee table like a war conference, with posterboard and sequins as the map and markers. 

Hannah was using her hands as she tried out “poetic” lines for him to use. “Take _note_ of me–”

Declan cut his eyes to her, raising an eyebrow. “Fallow’s gonna run from that…”

“Okay, then it’s your turn, blockhead!”

Declan rubbed the back of his head, eyes narrowed. “... Fallow… be my…. Pallow…”

I bust out laughing at that and Tracey pointed at him and announced with a sneer, “You’re never gonna get a date!”

“HEY, PUNK!” 

The kid let loose something between a squealing laugh and a scream as she took off down the stairs again, pushing her littermate brother before her as Declan thundered after them, Prince barking at his knees.

I cracked my knuckles. My turn. “Your notes are really great. Be my date.” I looked around at my friends. “Hah? _Hahhh?_ ”

Hannah blinked a couple times. “I think you two have gotten hit in the head one too many times.”

Wren tapped a blue marker to their chin. “You guys could always google stuff.”

Beaver’s head lifted, his eyes huge. “Wren, you are a _genius!_ An idiot, but a _genius!_ ”

Wren just rolled their eyes as their brother grabbed for his phone. Hannah and I scooted closer to look over his shoulder as Declan came puffing back up the stairs with the two small twins squirming over his shoulder, the dog _still_ barking, and the rest of the siblings obviously coming up with a plan to get them back. “Isn’t that cheating?” he asked, tossing each one onto the couch beside Wren as they giggled maniacally. 

“AGAIN AGAIN!” Tobias screamed, lifting his fat little arms. Declan made a face, but threw him again, which then made all the other kids flock around him, grabbing on, wanting a turn. His eyes went glassy as he realized his mistake and quietly sat down next to Wren as he was mobbed, unable to do anything as he was used as a jungle gym.

I had Ruth, Noah, and Grace soon coming over to me, trying to clamber on into my lap as they were so used to doing with their older siblings, asking me questions about my pregnancy, about the pups. To be honest, I was happy to pull off pun-duty and answer them, going soft seeing how they were so gentle around my belly (as opposed to how they’d been pulling on Declan’s head hair and leg hair until he’d actually had to growl at them), petting their heads as they felt the pups move. 

Life was pretty darn good.

Ruth stayed on my knee, her head leaning against my belly as if she was listening for something as I helped Beaver color in his letters, sending out calming pheromones for my nervous friend. 

“I hope she doesn’t think I’m pushy,” he fretted. “I hope she knows she can say no. I won’t be too sad if she does.”

“You?” I bubbled. “Pushy?”

Hannah purred, “Beaver, you don’t have a pushy bone in your body.”

“Cept when he wants to shower first,” Wren remarked.

He turned on his sibling. “Yeah, cause you use all the hot water when you shave your legs and never tell me when you’re doing it!”

“Hell, I never know when I’m doing it,” they mused, a slow smile spreading on their face. 

Hannah scowled, “I get yelled at by my mom if I don’t shave my legs.”

Wren stuck out their tongue. “Screw that.”

“Two more years, Hannah,” I reminded. She was getting out of this town. For good. 

Once the sun began to go down, I got picked up by Frank Costello in an uber, Declan shutting the door behind me as I texted my mate to tell him I was headed back home– apparently Matthew had brought him back to his house to show him his diagram about thermodynamics he’d gotten a ninety eight on, and he was still there eating dinner. 

“Hey, Milo, how’s it going?” he asked, pulling away from the front of the house.

“Good, Mr. Costello.”

“You guys have started studying, yeah? Are you seniors now?”

“No, sir, next year. We were helping B– Jeremiah put together something for the girl he wants to ask to prom.”

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, I’m bound to see lots of you guys then. Glad your lil’ pack there knows their limits when it comes to drinking.”

I chuckled, looking out the window. “That’s not gonna be me.”

He laughed his honking laugh. “Yeah, cause you won’t be drinking! How are they? If you don’t mind me asking…” That was right, Frank had driven A.W. and I back after our stint in the hotel.

I rubbed at my belly. “Heavy. Heavy and healthy.”

“That’s good to hear! Good to hear!”

My mom shared a sandwich with me in silence at home, showing me that my belly band had come in the mail, and then I raided her closet for a baggy nightgown cause I couldn’t be bothered to go upstairs, strapping the band on underneath. I worked on a history powerpoint waiting for my mate to get home, and sure enough, when he did, he brought me some Indian food. 

“Dude,” he said by way of greeting, “I found out Matthew’s secret.” I raised my eyebrows, there at the dining table. He ducked his head to mine, nuzzling, beginning to scent, and I lifted my hand to keep him close. “He studies by teaching his little yapper dogs the material.”

“Everyone knows that,” I scoffed playfully.

“Oh.” He ducked far down to sniff near my chest. “You smell like–”

“Yeah, I’ve got my mom’s stuff on and before, I had Beaver and Wren’s siblings climbing all over. They were really gentle. It was sweet.”

His smile grew a bit. “I can imagine.” His eyes flitted to my screen. “Shit, man, you haven’t finished that?”

I scowled at him. “Okay, well obviously _not_.”

“Hate to say it, but you’re screwed,” he sighed, his smile growing a bit more. “I could help you,” he offered, something mischievous in his voice making me narrow my eyes at him. He put his mouth to my neck, murmuring, “For a price…”

I cleared my throat, cutting my eyes to my mother sitting on the couch in the corner she always did, tucked away. He lifted his head a little, calling, “Hi, Mrs. McCoy.”

“Hi, there, A.W.”

I smacked his arm; he wasn’t supposed to take it in stride like that. Not when my ears were red and burning. 

He ended up working on my project so I could eat again, that being the only bargain he struck, one I was happy to make, but still. 

I told him, “These bags are the only things I feel like I can wear anymore.”

Without looking up, he asked as he typed, “Do we need to go pick up some more sundresses or something?”

A thought struck me. “... Did you want to go to prom?”

“Yeah. I know we don’t have a plan together yet, but I assumed those of us who didn’t have dates would go together”

“I’m not gonna fit in my suit.” I scraped at some rice. “Hell, I didn’t fit into my suit in the first trimester.”

“We can stop by the rental place if you wanna wear one.”

“True.”

“I’ll pick something up, too. What color do you wanna have the ties?”

“Beats me. You pick.”

The wheels were turning.

After our shower, while he was getting his things in order for school tomorrow, I was texting the poster committee from this afternoon, asking

: Do I need to ask A.W. to prom? Or is it like… implied?

Beaver replied first : DO IT! I DON’T WANNA BE THE ONLY ONE OF US ASKING SOMEONE!

Hannah said : You might as well talk it over with him

Beaver texted : nO NO! SURPRISE HIM HE’LL LOVE IT!

My turn : If I do… Am I gonna need my own pun?

And that was what I thought about as we bedded down for the night, tapping my fingers on my belly, looking at the wall, using it as a blank mental scratch paper for my ideas until I fell asleep. On one hand, it was cheesy and stupid. On the other… well… I might as well, right? 

In second period I bounced ideas off Declan and Rose and Peter, but I really should have waited for Matthew or Hannah because the ideas the four of us had come up with paled in comparison to theirs– and I _wanted_ to use theirs, but they insisted it had to have some originality to it.

Back to texting.

I was tired of getting shot down before I’d even asked him.

: You’re my mate. Let’s date.

Hannah replied : Nah not specific enough.

Rubbing my forehead, I tried for what felt like the hundredth time : I know you’re my mate, but will you be my prom date?

: … Better. I mean, its long but it gets the job done.

: Can you just say its good so I can get started?

: Yeah, its good you got this! And you came up with it all on your own! 


	2. Nerves

Ever since Linus had opened up about his mental issues he was struggling with (whose details I’m gonna have to keep private), we had a secret rotation in our friend group for someone to spend time with him. Not in a group where he still might feel alone, but one on one time. It was all we could do. So. It was my shift on Wednesday, and I’d asked him over to Woody’s for a little for him to grab dinner and me grab my  _ first  _ dinner.

Angling in the booth so my belly wouldn’t be smushed against the table ledge, I watched him. He was rolling his paper napkin holder into a ball as he stared at the menu– like he hadn’t been here hundreds of times. I started, “How was your day?”

“Good. Nothing much happened.”

“Same.”

Okay, one thing Matthew had told us (after trying to pass our brochures about our plans for supporting our friend) was that we needed to keep the conversations in a middle ground. Not focused on me. Not focused on him. It felt challenging, but school was a great middle ground, I thought. I made the most of my pheromones (especially being pregnant) to calm him as I added, “The bio test was hard. I might need to do a redo.” I tried for a laugh. “I have tried bribing the science department before.”

“With what?” he asked, the corner of his lip turning up. 

After dinner, it was time to let him go, and, though he tried to stick around and wait for A.W. to come pick me up, I encouraged him to get on home and start on his bio corrections. Maybe take a nap. It seemed like that’s all he was doing nowadays, and I remember my own time with problem-sleeping. Still, if he needed the rest– emotional, mental, and physical…

A.W. wasn’t long in picking me up in his moms’ car, and there I met another problem: he wasn’t in a good mood. It wasn’t sullen. It wasn’t angry or annoyed. It was sad. And nervous. 

He kept my hand on his scent gland, scenting my wrist, the top of my hand, my palm, every chance he got, doing it absent-mindedly as he drove.

Looked like my comforting skills (however lacking I believed they were) were in need once more. And I came onto him full force, asking, “What’s the matter? A.W.?” Brushing my fingers over his cheek. 

He rested at a stop sign, sighing, and it looked like he was weighing how much to tell me. He lingered for a while before starting again, saying, “I was over at my moms’, right? They had a family friend staying I hadn’t seen in a while. He was using my room.” Before I could placate him, remind him he wasn’t being replaced, he added, “Which is fine and all. You remember Dr. Bautista?”

“Vaguely.” He was a Beta doctor that had specialized in pediatrics and had been his Alpha mom’s roommate for a while in college. 

He paused as he flipped his turn signal on to get onto the main road. “He seemed a little concerned about the pregnancy.”

I lifted an eyebrow. He hadn’t even seen me. I realized. “Well, yeah, we’re young, but I know we can–”

“No. Not about age or anything that mattered.” He glanced to me. “About me with the pups?”

“Huh?”

“Cause I’m an Epsilon.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my belly. “Don’t listen to that asshole. None of the doctors we saw had any concerns like that.” He took a breath. I waved a finger at him. “ _ And  _ all that stuff about cunning Epsilons and shit is pure fucking superstition. Stereotypes. You’re not like that.” He was quiet for a good few moments. “A.W? Honey? You’re not taking him seriously, are you?”

He grumbled, “Well, shit, Milo, I don’t know. No one thought I’d have a family and thought I was better off that way.”

“Well fat chance getting rid of us now, Gibbs. You’ve got the three of us for the long haul. And don’t you forget it.” I looked out the window to the patchy lawns we were passing. “Besides, you couldn’t be a worse dad than mine unless you starting hitting the kids. And do you really think you’d do that?”

He begrudgingly admitted, “No.”

“Exactly. It’s so far out there.”

“I’ve been through all the forums and none of the Epsilons have both a mate and kids. One or the other.”

“What, like they’re separated?”

“Yeah.”

“I just said you’re not getting rid of us. We’re a package deal.”

“Fuck, I’d never think about leaving– it’s just… daunting.”

I guess on top of being young, being in this situation, he did have to deal with the complications of his dynamic– mostly the stereotypes associated with it– on top of that. It hadn’t been something I’d thought about; we’d had so many other hurdles to leap before I could even think about this one, but it must have been with him since the beginning. I rested my hand on the back of his neck cause I didn’t know how to respond to that. Not until I’d thought about it for a good six hours and we were just turning in for the night. 

“A.W.,” I began, and he looked my way as I stared up at the ceiling, looking over Moony sandwiched between us. “I think we’ve got to take this one day at a time. Excuse me for saying, darlin’, but it might be borrowing trouble to worry about stuff like if being an Epsilon is going to affect how you parent. The first months of parenting are grueling, but easy when you think about it. All we’ll be doing is feeding and holding and changing poopy diapers.” I nodded to myself. “And once they get a little older, you’ve gotta remember,” I looked his way, “They’ll love you because you’re their father.” I cracked a smile in an attempt to get one out of him, rubbing at his temple with my thumb. “Hell, I’ll even let you be ‘Daddy’. Just so I can tell you now they’ll love their Daddy.”

“Wait a minute,” he laughed, “You’re telling me we fought over that for a week just so you could give it to me now?”

“Yes.”

“No,” he chuckled. “You won that one. I’m no sore loser. You stay Daddy and Dama and I’ll stay Dad and Papa.”

I snuggled him over Moony. “Then they’ll love their Dad. They’ll love Papa.”

He sighed, his brows creasing as his fingers skirted over my bare belly. It was a silent ‘I hope so.’

I leaned over and began scenting him despite smelling so thoroughly of my mate already. But of course, scenting turned to making out pretty dang quick. And it was awful having to decide between how tired we were versus if we could hold out til morning. Or maybe not even morning, but after school tomorrow.

Sleepy as we were, we decided to go through with it, just helping each other out, stumbling to the bathroom for a tissue box, then passing out. 

In the morning we ran into the same problem– could we finish before we had to leave for school?

In short:  _ no _ . 

We were thirty minutes late to first period, but it was easy enough to explain away with a quick white lie from me: “Sorry; morning sickness.”

Course the fresh kiss marks down under my collar and my mate’s kind of negated that, but hey– 

It would be handy to have more freedom in school, though, so I reminded myself to get a note from Dr. Flannery next time I went to see him, either for a pep talk (we’d had three since that first one) or a check up. A.W. and I came in every so often cause we were paranoid fathers. Emphasis on  _ paranoid _ . And it caused divisions between us. 


	3. Research!

Well into the third trimester, A.W. announced to me that he’d found an Epsilon parent here in Pennsylvania– Evelyn, a maternal parent mated to an Alpha. They were going to meet halfway for each of them for the weekend. I wanted to go, obviously, but at that point, Dr. Flannery had put me on bedrest and I had teachers breathing down my back, threatening all sorts of things if I didn’t pass my finals in a week and a half. 

So I had to say goodbye to him as he took his mom’s car, but Ronnie and Linus had offered to keep me company– maybe not their best idea.

As soon as they came into my room, I  _ had _ to scent them, and trundled them into the nest, shoring it up around them, purring. 

Ronnie was cozy, happily soaking up the maternal attention, playing the perfect pup.

Linus kept trying to scoot out. 

I couldn’t have that. 

Managing to pin my friend down, I nearly gave him a discplinary nip before stopping myself, biting my own tongue. 

I couldn’t move around much, so we played on Ronnie’s switch and watched movies, going through my growing list fast.

I wouldn’t even let Linus leave to get up and get snacks for us. It made my stomach clench up to see him rolling out of the edge of the nest.

“No, no, no, no–” I kept telling him, dragging him back, wrapping an arm around his chest, and then Ronnie’s. “You stay here and be good. I’ll call my mom.”

“Geez, Milo!” Ronnie laughed.

“I can’t help it,” I retorted, “You know I can’t!”

I was stroking their heads as they faced off in Smash when Hannah and my mom came in, the scents clearly omega and familiar enough to keep me relaxed. 

“Hannah!” Ronnie called.

Linus almost tried to push my grip on him off before thinking better of it. “He’s not letting us leave the nest.”

My mom laughed as Hannah sighed. I smelled food on her. My ears were red as I mumbled, “... I mean, I  _ could. _ ”

“I brought some sandwiches,” Hannah laughed, lingering outside my nest that was spilling out off the bed, off the couch pushed next to it, off the chairs, off mountains of pillows. “I made them myself.”

I used Ronnie’s shoulder to roll myself up, going to her side. “Thanks; you didn’t have to.” As my mother left, I took the bag, began to scent at my friend’s head, at her shoulders, and then she could come on in to cuddle. 

Even without my mate during such a crucial time, I was so content, unable to stop myself from treating my friends like my pups. Especially Linus, giving him extra affection. All three ended up sleeping over. I kept waking up in the middle of the night to fix the nest around them, and kept napping on into the day, eating intermittently.

That was how A.W. found us in the evening, our three friends sleepy and calm thanks to my outpouring of pheromones, calmness laced with maternal hormones, my scent smelling faintly of milk, that note spiking when his came into the equation, like my body was trying to show off for him. 

Amid all the greetings, I went to my mate and scented him the best, neck to neck, mating mark to mating mark, and with few words, situated him around our friends, a nice blockade for the side I couldn’t get to.

“He won’t let us leave,” Hannah giggled, the sunset coming through the slotted blinds shining in her face. I was compelled to shift some pillows to block that sun from her. “You see?”

“Milo,” he told me gently, “You’ve got to let them go home.”

“I know.” Still, it felt so wrong. I grit my teeth in my mouth. “I know that.”

“In another month we’ll have our own pups, but–”

I rubbed the side of my head, my dream shattered. “I know!” I could smell my friends’ guilt in reaction to how upset I’d suddenly became. Rationally, I knew they weren’t mine. I loved them dearly, but they weren’t my pups. Their scents were different, even covered up with mine. I picked at the side of my thumb. “Thanks for coming, guys…” Ronnie leaned over, scenting at my shoulder, and I scented at the top of his head, my instincts getting stronger now that I was carrying my mate’s scent on me, too. “Dangit…”

There was absolutely no reason for me to cry, so I had to push that down as I saw my friends out, A.W. helping me out of the nest. 

Leaning on the stair rail upstairs, I huffed as he came back up, a hand on the back of my neck, “I gotta call Dr. Flannery.”

Worry burst out of him. “Why? Were you too active? Did you guys go out?”

I sidled up to him. “No, I just feel awful now.” I shook my head. “But nevermind that. I want to hear about Evelyn. That’s gonna make me feel better.”

His eyes lit up, and he went in for a quick kiss. “Oh, it was great, she was great; I learned a lot.” 

“Like what?” I hummed, happy to focus on him now.

He kept scenting at me every so often as he related how their visit had gone. “We stayed seven hours at the cafe.  _ Seven, Milo! _ When she walked in, I could smell her immediately– I mean I knew what she looked like. I showed you her picture, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. So, I could tell she was an Epsilon. Apparently, there aren’t a lot of maternal Epsilons. And she thought she’d been sterile since she didn’t have an expansion or a knot, but turns out she did have a working uterus, like the occasional alpha female.”

I cocked my head, slipping down to sit on the stairs. “Did it make a difference in your conversations? Her being maternal versus you paternal?”

“I’m just lucky I got to meet another Epsilon parent at all! Can I get you back to the nest?”

“No, let’s stay out here for a while.”

He sat on the stair below me, angling up to see me, rubbing my knee, my belly. “She had a lot of experiences like mine with Alphas and Betas when she was younger. The omegas hadn’t been afraid of her, but that’s the only difference I could see. She met her mate in college– she’s in graduate school now.”

“Business, right?”

“Right. So after courting and all, they mated and their ruts ended up syncing and  _ boom _ ! Pregnant! Theirs was more unexpected than ours.” I leaned my chin in my hand, humming in agreement. “She’s got a daughter now, Beta. Her name’s Lily-May and she’s three. God, Milo, she was so cute! And Evelyn’s theory is that because she’s– obviously– been with her since she was an infant, her Epsilon scent doesn’t seem so strange.”

“Course your scent isn’t going to be strange! Dude, I’m glad she confirmed that!”

“I know, right!” he grinned. “So, even if one of our pups is Alpha, or even Beta, I think that we’ll get along. The teenage years might be a little rocky, but, hey, who’s aren’t? Mine still are! Me and my mom– My alpha mom– haven’t killed each other yet.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “When they’re all out as a family, people do sniff around… Course with an Epsilon and an Alpha, the sniffers get chewed out real bad. But, people do notice. I don’t care. I don’t mind it. Would you?”

“Nah. Let ‘em see.”

“People usually assume she’s a Beta.”

“How did they talk to their daughter about her mother’s dynamic?” I frowned. “Did they even need to?”

He raised a finger. “So what ended up happening was their daughter had heard some things from her preschool teachers about her parents, but she’s so little, of course she doesn’t get it yet.”

“Figures.”

“And, I want to ask…” He chewed on the bottom of his lip for a second before looking at me again. “Is that– is a conversation how you want to breach that topic with them?”

“How else?”

“There’s one or two books.” He pulled out his phone. “Here, I have the links. Lemme show you.”

I scooted nearer, and he balanced his phone on the top of my belly to show me the books on amazon: children’s books. I read the titles aloud with growing excitement: “Everywhere Epsilon”? “Daddy, Mommy, and Me: Your Epsilon parent”?”

“We could change that to Daddy and Papa and Me or something,” he laughed.

I nuzzled at the top of his head. “Buy them. Both.” 

He leaned up, kissed the underside of my jaw. “Got it.”

“Wait!” I took his phone from my belly. “Hold up.” His eyebrow raised. I added both of those to the cart, and goaded, “Watch this.” I added a t-shirt that said in bubbly letters, “I love my Epsilon” as well as two little onesies that said something similar. 

He was beaming. I needed to recognize him more. I had to. More and more.

I took his face in my hands, looked into his eyes, and told him, “You’re going to be so fucking perfect. I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise. Once the pups are born, that is.”

He nuzzled his nose to mine, saying more quietly, “You know what?”

“What?”

“I think I’m gonna be, too.”

I had to kiss him for that. “I missed you.”

He pulled back, chucking, eyes so bright. “I was gone a day!”

“Yeah, and I’m obviously going insane trying to make my friends into my surrogate pups– Well.” I looked to the side. “I probably would have done that with or without you.”

“You were really content earlier, but you kept looking at me. Like, expectantly?”

“Yeah, cause you weren’t scenting them,” I laughed.

“Wow, dude. Wow.”

“It’s not my fault!”

“Let’s call Flannery; I know it’s gotta be normal.”

And it was. But things were probably heightened because I was spending so much time in my nest thanks to bedrest. There wasn’t a quick and dirty remedy like I wanted, but the doctor encouraged me not to bottle those feelings up, which was great to hear cause the next day at school, I was back at it again, scenting my friends as much as I could, fixing their hair, their collars and clothes without realizing, doing little things. 


	4. Stress and Summer

Today was Declan’s day with Linus, but I tagged along, asking Linus if he minded multiple times before I glomped onto him, and gave him so much attention, unconsciously trying to suck the sad out of him. I wanted A.W. there, too. I wanted him to be on his other side, but sadly, he had to go run errands for his mom.

Sleepless nights and nap-filled days became my norm as school began to wind down, my belly too uncomfortably huge to do anything with. I was more than happy to have A.W. glued to my hip, and showed it in the ways I could, wearing that t-shirt I’d bought even if it stretched, making sure we got to eat his favorite foods, giving him flowers I saw growing in sidewalk cracks, buying snacks for him. Course, he was trying to do all those things, too, for his pregnant mate, so our efforts collided much of the time. 

Slow as I had to be on my feet, I still went out and did things, like going to Matthew’s to study for example the week before finals… Not that he would’ve let A.W. and I skip… 

It was nice to hold Mallow and S’more up on my slightly swollen chest as I half-heartedly went through Spanish conjugations– the tiny dogs didn’t wiggle like my friends did. 

“Pluscuamperfecto is trash,” I announced. 

“It’s useful,” Linus argued, frowning. 

“Okay, but you’re bilingual– you don’t count!”

Abby nodded from beside him, taking on a thousand yard stare. “Trash…”

Linus chuckled, “I guess we are kinda obsessed with being ‘perfect’.”

I squinted at the pun. Matthew leaned over Beaver and around Declan to crow, “EYYYYY!” He stuck an arm behind him to support his weight as he told me, “Okay, Milo, you’re up for Imperfect Subjunctive.”

A.W. rubbed behind my ear and I nearly frickken giggled it surprised me so much. “You just gotta pass, babe.”

“Just gotta pass,” I repeated. The dogs were nice and still for me as I fluffed up their fur on the backs of their necks absent-mindedly, reciting the endings to the tense and mood. 

But whether I would or wouldn’t was yet to be decided. And I don’t think I helped matters the night before the Spanish exam. 

Able to come home early after the English paper we’d just taken, A.W. and I spent some time outside in the early June heat. My mind was filled with numbers instead of words by then, all my words spent– physics formulas, math processes, and my due date. As far as I’d pushed it from my mind, it was now finally starting to break through: July 16th. It was only June 7th, but if you took away one, then added ten, so nine days, then added a month, then we’d be parents. Course, the pups could very well come earlier, and to be honest, as I sat there in a sundress– the only thing keeping me cool outside– my knees hiked up sitting in the low foldable lawn chair around the massive growth on my belly– bigger than a watermelon–, I’d be happy if they did. A.W. had his Spanish textbook over his face as he lay in the already drying grass in our backyard. I pushed up my sunglasses with a finger, reminding him, trying to distract from the task at hand, “We still haven’t decided on names.”

“Jake.”

“Well, yeah, for the first, but his brother?”

He picked up his textbook, squinted, and said, “Antonio.”

“ _No._ ”

He glanced again. “Marcel.”

“We said we were doing JJ, dude.”

“... Jose.”

“A.W. I swear–”

“ _Juan-Pedro._ ”

I looked at him from over my sunglasses. “Your naming rights have been revoked.”

His lip curled. “Huh?”

“Jake and… J–” I spent a long time on that ‘j’ sound before coming up with, “Jonas.”

“You didn’t even like the Jonas brothers that much.”

“Joe Jonas–” I gasped, “Joe!”

My mate scowled. “No. We’re not naming our kid after your seventh grade celebrity crush.”

“Hahah! So you knew!”

“Of course I knew!” I was cackling so hard, he grumbled, “Don’t tip the chair, jerk.” 

Once I’d calmed down, hands on my belly as I felt the pups wiggling, I sighed, “I should probably look on a site.”

He promptly pulled up one. “Jude.”

“Nahh.”

“Jordan.”

“... We’ll come back to that one.”

“Jeremy.”

“No; people are gonna call him Jerry.”

We didn’t spend very long there because I could have gotten overheated, but still, it was nice to get that vitamin D. 

As much as I tried to concentrate on Spanish– or anything for that matter– I was consumed by an all-encompassing need for _grease._ Fries. Chicken nuggets. A burger. Funnel cake. Anything deep fried was where my mind was. So of course I was distraught when I found out my mom had already thawed a frozen lasagna for dinner. Still, it filled me up. Until some nesting activity, then activity inside the nest with A.W. got my appetite up again. 

I was holding onto him tight, a hand on his head on my chest, keeping him down and against me when the urge struck again. I whimpered something I couldn’t even understand it was too soft. 

A.W. reached a hand up to my head, pushed my hair back, and asked, “Did it hurt? What’s wrong?”

“... I’m hungry. So damn _hungry_.”

He laughed, stretching his neck up to kiss under my chin. “I mean, that makes sense. Want me to make you something? A grilled cheese?”

“Grilled cheese was last week, honey,” I told him, fingers gripping a little tighter in his hair. “Tonight’s all about junk. Fast food.” I bit my lips just thinking about it. 

He rolled over, much to my displeasure, almost out of the nest to check his phone on the bedside table nearly covered over with blankets. “It’s eleven fifteen. Jack in the Box is twenty four hours. Lemme go grab the keys and I’ll get you something.”

I couldn’t help the purring when he came back to me, scenting all over his head, kissing at his mating mark. His eyes were half-lidded as he held me again, scooting closer, his stomach against mine. “I’m coming with you,” I told him.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s not like I’m going to be walking anywhere.” I got close to his ear, grinning at the prospects I had in mind. “I’m coming with you. And we’re gonna hit up every fast food drive-through Punxsutawney has to offer.”

I woke my mom up for the keys, lumbering around in the dark. A.W. had to point out where my flip flops were, had to help me stick my swollen feet in them. 

I sighed, tossing him the keys as we headed to the garage, “Have I ever told you how much I love the fact you have a license?”

He snickered, “No. Is that all it took to win you over?”

I rolled my eyes. “I mean, I can drive, don’t get me wrong. You know I can. But a license–” He walked me to my side of the car, helping me in with touching amounts of care, even helping me find the buckle. 

“Where to first?” he asked as we backed out.

I handed him my phone. “I set up our route while you were changing.” He lifted a brow. “For maximum efficiency and car-snacking.”

“Did you bring your Tums?” My face fell. “Are they still in your backpack?” I nodded. “I’ll go grab them.”

As he hopped out of the car, I muttered to my belly, rubbing a hand over it, “Isn’t he great? You’re already reaping the benefits.” Of course, my hormones all over the place, A.W. found me compulsively rubbing my belly, patting my hands on the skin, as he climbed back in the car. He handed me my bottle. “Thanks, A.W. You’re the best.”

He shrugged. “I know.” I mock-scoffed. “Let’s get to it.”

First was Taco Bell. I leaned over my mate to crow into the speaker, “Hi, can I get a large Baja blast, two chicken cheese quesadillas, and a doritos locos taco?” A.W. was distracting me. Not because he was doing anything, but just because he was so close. I barely heard the man’s reply. It felt so good to hand over my credit card– even if it was my parent’s money– and get all that food in return, sneaking sips from A.W.’s drink while he drove and I already began unwrapping my quesadilla. The main event hadn’t happened yet. 

Next was Fox’s Pizza. A.W. went in to pick up the pizza and wings cause I was in my boxers and a hoodie. 

I began to stack my food items on top of each other: wings on quesadillas, taco on pizza. 

Next was Burger King, then Wendy's, then the classic McDonalds. 

I was shoving three different kinds of fries into my mouth, unable to get enough, it seemed. A.W. was gnawing on a pizza crust thoughtfully as we sat in the car with our smorgasbord in front of the house. 

“Ya wanna watch some netflix?” I asked, coming up for a breath before chomping into a burger. “We can watch something Spanish.”

“We might as well,” he grumbled. “I don’t feel good about tomorrow.”

I stopped chewing. “... Wanna get inside and go to sleep?”

He grabbed another slice of pizza. “And miss all the fun? Hell no!”

Still, I was pushed to reassure him, sending out some calming pheromones. “You’re gonna do just fine, A.W.. Don’t you worry.”

“I’m fine, Milo,” he told me, referring to my pheromones. “Really.”

“Can’t help it,” I admitted. 

He grabbed a chicken tender, wrapping it up in his pizza. “I’m really liking uncovering this new side of you.” I could tell he was proud, a good reaction from a mate.

I replied by swiping barbecue sauce on his nose– the only appropriate answer for someone who wasn’t as good with words as some. 

I took two Tums by the time I was halfway through, already feeling the weight in my belly, mad at myself for not being able to pack away more, scowling at my fries balanced on my belly. 

“You know you can always save it,” A.W. reminded me, increasingly becoming the voice of reason as I lost my mind to this pregnancy.

“But it’ll never be better than it is now,” I affirmed to myself, starting in on that next chicken sandwich.

Course, I was miserable up until the point I fell asleep, and had to take handfuls of Tums as we got ready in the morning, but decided it had been worth it. 

Spanish really didn’t go as planned, and I was disheartened up until I found out I’d interpreted the essay question correctly while so many others hadn’t, already mobbing our teacher for explanations. 

We stopped by the cafeteria– the staging area during finals week– and double checked our rooms for the next day. I greeted Ronnie with a scenting directly to his head, crowing, “Dude, we’re in the same room tomorrow!”

He jogged his feet happily. “Yay!” I pulled back only for him to remark, “You’re so affectionate nowadays!”

I balked at that. Had I needed to be more affectionate in the past? It was just– I mean– All I could come up with was a joking, “Don’t get used to it. All this is going to my pups once they’re here.”

“You literally called me ‘Pup’ when I was at your house!” he complained, cuddling closer into me. “Don’t love me any less!”

“Milo’s gonna love those pups more than anything when they get here,” Hannah said, arms crossed. “More than his friends, his family, A.W., and even himself…” 

“If all goes to plan,” I amended. I hoped I could love them that way. I definitely did love them already, but I felt a bit guilty wondering if that was just my hormones. And what if I didn’t love them right away? What then?

She was sending calming pheromones my way, putting a hand on my arm, thinking I was talking about if something went wrong during birth. “Sure it will. You’ve already had your stroke of bad luck.”

I jumped smelling an alpha behind me, turning, hackles raised, only to be met with Declan, his hands up. “Easy, McCoy. Just me.”

I grabbed him to scent him, too, subconsciously knowing he’d be less threatening if he smelled like me. I was nearly about to call for A.W. to come scent him, too, before I realized I was doing it again, muttering, “Sorry.”

He straightened up from how he was bent over almost at ninety degrees, lifting his head. He ruffled my hair, then asked Hannah, “What’d you think about French?”

Her scent turned sour. “French was _shit_.” I reached over and held her hand as she ranted, very glad I’d taken Spanish instead. 

Soon finals were over. A.W. and I both passed above the mark, and we got to see the seniors graduate– Hayley and Lindsey part of that class, yes, getting to graduate together. It was written in every one of my classmate’s faces: soon that would be us. 

And damn, was I ready for it. 

Senior year was gonna be hell with two infants and a college search, but I wasn’t giving up either one, and neither was my mate. 

The end of year parties came and went, pool parties giving way to summer camp jobs and lifeguard duties at the public pool, familiar faces at every cash register and restaurant in town. I was not part of that group this year. No, I was floating around in the public pool between the splashing ten year olds in a donut float, letting my legs drag on the bottom, my eyes closed in bliss at the weight lifted from me. It wasn’t my fault I’d been skinny, going from lacrosse to walking and working in the house to eating for multiples, but I swore to myself that after these pups came, I was gonna get ripped. … Or just fit. Defined? Whatever. I’d used to be able to see my abs before the babies. With the stretch marks, I wondered what I’d look like after. 

The kids were already making fun of how ‘fat’ I was. I shut them up with some creative (clean) threats as I bobbed. 


	5. Happy Birthday!

I didn’t have much else to think about, and as the hot summer days went by, panic began to set in. 

It got worse when Dr. Flannery had me on serious bed rest. As in I needed to be in my nest all the time. The more time I spent in my room, the more it didn’t feel ready for the pups, which saw me trying to frantically organize things that had no proper place, bemoaning the room in general– it was a teenage boy’s room, with all that entailed, not a nursery, however much stuff we piled inside of it. 

Despite me being the one to encourage A.W. to get out of the house, I found myself jealous of him and missing him, anxiously wondering what would happen if I went into labor and he was out with Abby and Declan and Hannah and Beaver. I stared out the window, sullen and over-bloated. I bet they were having a blast. 

My mother came upstairs to spend more time with me, helping me with my compulsive nesting instinct to clean and organize and scent things. I got to complain to her, too, blurting out stuff like, “My chest hurts.” “I’ve got heartburn.” “My ankles look like sausages.” “My ass is gonna explode, isn’t it? Who thought ass-babies were a good evolutionary mechanism anyway?” And she’d always respond mildly, unfazed, her scent not changing, though I did recognize it was playing off my own’s changes. She was smelling how she’d used to when I was younger, back in Tennessee when I’d scrape my knees outside and come clinging to her legs, blubbering as she cooed and held tissues to my face and told me all sorts of lovely things to distract me. She smelled like my mother again: sweet and savory like a kitchen on Thanksgiving day, nothing dampered, nothing watered down. 

When A.W. was home, there wasn’t much else to do besides sex, and we got to enjoy ourselves, knowing times like these would be few and far between in the coming months– until my sister came home and we had to learn how to be quiet again. 

The new face was good for me. She made me lemonade and told me all about her adventures on and off her college campus while I sat and listened intently, thinking with growing joy: That’s gonna be me– That’s gonna be me!

A.W. and I had already talked about it, and we needed to go to college here locally so we could be ‘roommates’ and get to drop the boys off for babysitting when we needed it– after all, what was family for? 

We’d talked about a good many things.

But one difficult thing was that my parents were unwilling to pay for any extra medical things they deemed unnecessary. After the hospital and the fees surrounding that, they’d stripped my birth down to the basics. I wasn’t going to be able to get an epidural. I’d looked it up and it was about two thousand dollars even with our insurance. I didn’t know if it was purely money or if my father wanted to get some kind of payback, maybe deter me from ever having another litter again. My research had led me to gas and air, but there was no code or fixing to the price of that, and our hospital wasn’t telling me any flat fees. So it was either that or IV pain relief. Either was, I  _ was _ getting some damn drugs to help. 

I could count the days on two hands. 

The only distraction I had going for me was my birthday, July 1st. And it was supposed to be a surprise pool party over at Matthew’s place, only there was a summer storm rolling in, the heat reflecting up into big thunderheads that darkened the horizon. Once it hit, I was perfectly content to sit on the front porch and watch the rain. Things had calmed down a bit with me and my erratic nesting behavior now that I was beginning to come off of hardcore bedrest. If the pups came now, they’d technically be premature, but still able to be handled. I took deep breaths of the wet air, not loving so much for its scent as for the feel of it on my skin after all this heat. Wherever I was, you could bet I was sweating, but not out here, going as far as to sit shirtless on a couch pillow I’d brought. It was a nice birthday gift from mother nature– now if only it’d clear up so I could get to have my party. 

The front door creaked open behind me, and my sister stepped out, asking, “What’re you doing?” 

“Just sitting. Why?”

“Oh.” She didn’t answer, coming to sit by me, lowering herself down to the porchwood, leaning back on her hands. 

“Cat?”

“It’s stupid, but I don’t like the idea of you alone being so close to when you pop. Where’s A.W.?”

I sighed. “Well he said he was gonna go see his moms, but he turned the direction for Matthew’s, so probably wondering what to do with this rain– I was gonna have a party over there.”

She shoved me, holding back a little. “And you didn’t invite me, punk?”

“Lenora didn’t get invited either.”

She huffed, leaning her head back. “Oh, well.” She pushed, almost out of character in reassuring me, “I’m sure that your party planning committee’s got a back up plan if it keeps raining.”

“It’d be a damn shame if I got struck by lightning before I could have these pups.”

“A damn shame,” she giggled at the outrageous thought, her accent falling into line with mine; they always got stronger when we were around each other.

“People get hit by lighting, Cat, it’s not new.”

“I know, but you’re being so protective. I’ve not gotten to see you a lot during your pregnancy. It’s refreshing.” It was true; back when Cat was living at home, finishing up high school, I had just begun on my self-destructive path that she’d caught glimpses of when she came home from college. “Are you scared?” she asked, side-eyeing me and my belly.

“Bout the birth?”

“Yeah.”

“Figured if everyone else can do it, I can, too,” I replied, nodding my head decisively.

She rubbed my shoulder with a hand. “Listen, if I had a job, I’d pay for your epidural.”

“It’s okay. People have been having pups long before epidurals came around.”

“Why don’t A.W.’s parents pay?”

“I can’t ask them that– And I told A.W. not to, either.” I sighed. “Besides, Dad would probably flip.”

“You’ve sure broken him in.” I turned to her. “In a good way!” she added, holding up a finger. “He’s got no real say about most things anymore.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” I glanced up to a streak of lightning carving out the clouds’ shapes. “I think he knows it, too. It makes me a little guilty sometimes, but I’ve got my own to look out for now, A.W. included.”

Her eyes were sad, her scent was diminished as she asked, “Your own family?”

I just nodded once, my jaw tight. My own. And I’d protect it from the poison of my past. 

“... Is there room for me?”

I shoved her back finally, laughing, “Who did you think Aunt Cat was gonna be?”

“ _ Yes! _ ”

“It’s gonna be you, Lenora, Kaden, and the gang– all aunts and uncles.” I stuck a finger in her face. “But if you teach my kids any weird shit, Cat, I swear–”

“I’ll be the  _ perfect  _ vodka aunt, don’t you worry!”

“I’ll take your word for it, ya hag.”

“ _ Hag?! _ ”

The storm moved on before evening, and everything was left dewy and cool and perfect for my ‘surprise’ party. 

I did have to act surprised when instead of being faced with his latest obsession, it was all my friends jumping out at me–

Declan did get too excited and tossed a dog at me. I caught Peanut, and he was banned from picking up the dogs for the rest of the night. I handed him off to Hannah as Matthew and A.W., one on each side, guided me out to the backyard, where yellowed lights were strung across the stucco facades in the back, and massive floats bobbed around in the pool: donuts and strange flamingos and beach balls and, heck, even a pirate ship! Water guns were scattered on the shallow step into the pool, and, for some reason, a box of capri suns was submerged as well. I didn’t ask. 

A.W. presented me with my swim trunks while everyone else just pulled their outer layer off. He asked as I changed in the bathroom downstairs, accompanying me for some reason, “You weren’t surprised, were you?”

I turned around to him, expecting to see him crest-fallen, but there was only a shit-eating grin on my mate’s face. “How’d you figure?”

“Well one, your face, and two, your scent.”

I balled up my shirt in my hands. “You think the others know?”

He waved a hand. “Nah.”

We came out to chaos as the splash fights and chicken fights and water gun battles had already begun, floats being used as moving defense from getting an earful of water. A.W. jumped right in, tackling Declan off the pirate-thing. Me? Well, I figured all my extra weight would make for an explosive cannonball. 

Once the first round had passed, everyone was calm enough to munch on some watermelon and just float around. I was in my customary donut float, holding mine and Ronnie’s watermelon, seeing as he was trying– and failing– to shove someone (Beaver) off the pirate float so he could have their place. 

Dinner was made by Matthew’s mom, and then we washed all the spice down with ice cream cake– cookies and cream. 

It was eleven o’clock and Abby had passed out on one of the outdoor couches, so Ronnie and Declan had roped Linus into drawing frosting on her face. Me and Matthew were still in the pool, talking about whether or not colleges cared about extracurriculars as much as grades, A.W. sitting with his legs in, pushing me away from the edge every so often when I floated that way, offering bites of watermelon. Hannah and Beaver had gone home already, and the dogs were out sniffing and doing their nightly business. 

“Aren’t you cold,” my mate asked me, frowning worriedly as he pushed me away with a foot. 

I spun around to look at him. “I don’t think I’m capable of being cold anymore.” 

He sighed to no one in particular, “If he could sleep in a pool, he would, nowadays.”

“You try hauling two pups everywhere in the summer,” I challenged, teasing him. 

“I’m about to,” he returned.

“Dammit, that’s right…” I’d forgotten I was giving birth soon I was having such a good time. Sleepy, I complained, “Even when I’m a dad, I don’t wanna stop having fun with you guys.”

“What,” Matthew laughed, snaking his head side to side, “You’re gonna be a  _ cool  _ dad?”

“I’m just saying dads have friends, too!” I paddled closer to him. “And  _ you  _ are gonna be on babysitting duty at some point.”

“So you and A.W. can go kiss each others faces off in private?” he joked.

“Probably,” A.W. replied, looking aside, looking almost troubled. 

I rubbed my forehead, my ears burning. “You’re supposed to say no, dude.”

Matthew cackled, “Too late!”

Cue Declan letting out his exaggerated ‘EW’. And then he tackled A.W. into the pool.

It was one in the morning by the time A.W. and I got back home, and he had to try his best to piggyback me up the stairs because I was so tired out. We showered the chlorine off and fell into our nest. His scent was so contented, I had to get more of it, scenting him, even as he couldn’t keep his eyes open. I pulled him close to my chest, and he left a little kiss at my throat before we both passed out. 


	6. I Am a Watermelon

The morning was less calm.

I woke up at seven and it was hellish, going to the bathroom only to stop on the way back because I was cramping.

Cramping.

My mind went from zero to a hundred in the blink of an eye and before I could tell anyone about it, I called Dr. Flannery, pacing the floor in front of my room out in the hall. 

He stayed with me on the phone as I panicked before– after a couple waves of pain had gone by– he determined I was feeling some stronger Braxton-Hickks. 

Fuck Braxton-Hickks.

I climbed back into bed at eight with my arms crossed and anger spilling out of me for being such a mess.  _ Such _ a mess. When the real thing began, I’d have to handle it better than that. 

The sheer amount of frustration coming out of me woke up my mate, who immediately sat up, looking me over. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I flipped out over some Braxton-Hicks and now I’m mad at myself.” I patted his leg. “You can go back to sleep, darlin’.”

“What time is it?”

“Bout eight.”

“... I’ll stay up. Make sure those aren’t real contractions.”

Of course they weren’t, but he held me like the world was gonna end each time pain rippled over my abdomen. “It’s not too bad. I’ve– I’ve definitely had worse pain.”

He didn’t seem to care, not answering, holding me just a little closer. I couldn’t pick up on anything drastic in his scent as I nosed around his neck lazily, but there was something I can only describe as a need to protect– the way it metabolized in me made me feel undeniably secure, even if he couldn’t really do anything against this. 

The days didn’t feel real, the monotony of them making them feel like a song on repeat playing in the background, not much to pay attention to. But at night, like usual, I couldn’t sleep, thinking every other moment it could begin just like that. Two parts of me welcomed the onset of labor, the part that was more than ready to meet my little sons, and the part that was so fucking ready to get this weight off my front. But the other part, well, the other was put into panic mode by any kind of shifting the pups did in their tight space.

I didn’t manage to sleep a wink the night before my actual due date, the sixteenth. It was a Tuesday, and though I waited and waited, the day was maddeningly normal.

Bets were being lost by our family and friends as the day turned into the next; the early bets had been lost, now the on time bets were dropping like flies. Dr. Flannery always assured me we could schedule induction into labor whenever I called, but it wasn’t going to be vital until a week had passed from the due date. 

July nineteenth. I was restless, torn between staying in my nest where I felt safe, and going out to distract myself from the sense of impending doom that had settled in me, only weighing me down more. Our little pack of friends were being pretty attentive to me and my mate, so when I texted Declan and Beaver and Ronnie like everything was normal and I just wanted to hang out, they all were in. Of course, A.W. refused to let me go nearly anywhere without him right about now, which I was actually pretty thankful for. 

The cicadas were screaming as we tried to keep to the shade outside, summer’s heat in full swing. The air was thick in the trees we walked through in the forests behind our town. There was no real plan besides to smash things and goof off, like usual; Declan was the one hefting our two watermelons we’d bought before coming out here, and Ronnie kept threatening to throw the eggs already. Hey, when you’re bored in a small town, there’s not much you can really do. Out of our pack, me, Declan, and Ronnie were probably the most destructive ones. A.W. went along with us most of the time. Linus just watched. 

In fact, the two of them had found an old log and had cracked open some beers Declan had snuck from his fridge, ready to watch the mess that’d come. 

“Hey, Milo,” Ronnie taunted, as he jumped around Declan dropping the melons to the forest floor, “Your belly looks exactly like one of these! All huge and stripey!”

A.W.’s head popped up from his conversation with Linus at hearing that. I just smiled at Ronnie, knowing it didn’t reach my tired, bloodshot eyes. “Ronnie, lemme see some of those eggs, hm?”

He handed me a carton. I wobbled back to my mate, who had the lacrosse sticks I’d brought leaned up against his leg. I chose the offense stick, short and deep-pocketed, and plopped an egg on in there.

He’d realized what I was doing. 

I heard an ‘Oh shit,’ and the way he took off, feet leaving ruts in the soft forest floor. 

“Easy target,” Linus called with a laugh. “Look for his afro!”

I cradled the egg a few times. “Got it, I got it.” One egg hit a tree. “Reload!” one splattered right after his feet. I moved around in the clearing to get a good view of him, sweat dripping down my shirt.

Third time's a charm.

“YEOOOWWW!” Ronnie screamed as it splattered across his back. “MILO! THAT HURT!”

He got me back a little while later with an egg to the head.

I swiped the gunk out of my eyes and off my forehead, glaring at my mate as he held his stomach and laughed. I threw a chunk of smashed watermelon at him in retaliation that got all over his front.

Linus took another sip of his beer and smacked his lips, sighing, “That’s what you get,” swiping a little bit of melon debris off his arm, more than happy to sit and soak up some sunshine. His olive skin had gotten pale during the spring, but it was starting to regain its golden undertones quickly this season the more we got him out of the house.

“Okay, that’s it,” my mate grumbled, putting aside his drink, striding to me. 

I just grinned. “What?” He had stopped only an inch from me. I wiped some juice off his chin. “What do you think you’re gonna do?”

Declan tossed a handful of mashed watermelon at my head from behind. “No kisses!”

“Dude! I was just–”

A.W. was just laughing again. Cause he knew I’d been about to kiss him. 

Screw them both.

Ronnie and I tossed eggs back and forth with my lacrosse sticks as A.W. smashed a whole half of watermelon over Declan’s head, making a nice hat for him. The alpha did  _ not  _ appreciate that, snarling as A.W. settled it more firmly on his head. 

Where else could it have led to but wrestling?

Ronnie and I were distracted by the fighting, aware it was all fun and games for them, but keeping an eye out to make sure it didn’t get out of hand. Growls mixed with laughs, sneers with smiles, even if the two of them did leave scratches and light bruises on each other.

I leaned up against a tree for a breather. The activity was supposed to induce my labor, but even just standing around had the potential to tire me out. 

It was nice to see A.W. letting loose some steam. He’d been so careful, so gentle, so attentive as we’d entered into this period of my pregnancy, and we both had worries ready to swallow us up, but seeing him like this, completely messed up with dirt, watermelon, and egg (probably the nastiest combination we’d ever inadvertently come up with), it was clear to see he was just a kid. We were just kids doing our best. 

The scent I was giving off watching him must’ve distracted him.

Thank  _ God _ Declan tackled him again before he could give me a bear hug. 

After that, I decided it was time for a break. I reminded A.W. how  _ not  _ to hold a lacrosse stick, and he and Ronnie began to toss as I went to sit with Linus, my back and pelvis aching something awful. He sniffed around. “You’re in pain?”

“Yeah. The longer these pups are in me, the heavier they seem.” Dr. Flannery had been through the consequences of having a pregnancy at such a young age with me. My bones and joints were feeling the effects of carrying a litter much more than an older me would’ve. 

“I’d rub your back for you,” he offered, seeming pleasantly buzzed after two beers, “But you smell like shit right now.”

“Yeah, maybe this wasn’t our best idea.” As much as I moved or changed positions, sitting first on the log, and then the mossy forest floor, I couldn’t get one that took the strain out of my back or down below. Usually, that meant–

I grit my teeth and shut my eyes as a contraction rolled through me, the pain making my arms shake. 

Linus was calling for A.W..

He was rushing to me, trying to get my attention.


	7. Labor? LABOR?!

I puffed out once it was over, “Contraction. Can’t tell if it's fake or real yet.”

“Fake?” Declan asked, somewhere close behind me.

A.W. explained as he took my hands, helped me up, “He’s been having Braxton-Hicks for a little while now. Fake contractions that didn’t mean he was in labor. Let’s head home. Just in case. Wanna go home?”

I nodded, trying not to freak out. I’d had at least four rounds of Braxton-Hicks since that first time. I wished against all reason that this would just prove to be another one of those. 

A.W.’s house was closest to the woods, so he led us there, going slow with me, holding my hands as I walked carefully, everything aching much worse, wondering when another was going to hit me. 

He gave my hand to Ronnie as we crossed the field behind his house. He took off at a jog, going around to the back door, checking to see if it was unlocked; it wasn’t. He pulled out his phone and, I assume, called Lenora. 

She was outside with him by the time our three friends had gotten me to the house. Her calming pheromones were much stronger than Ronnie’s had been, and my tenseness faded a bit as she almost made to hug me. “Well, you stink, too.”

“We can hose off out here, right?” A.W. asked, already going for the hose coiled on the far wall. He then brought me a stool from inside, and sat me down, having enough of a one-track mind right now to begin undressing me himself.

Lenora got the other hose for Linus and Declan to use around the other side of the house since they were Beta and Alpha, even though we were all guys. Ronnie didn’t mind staying with us since A.W. was a mated Epsilon and me an Omega like him as we washed egg out of our hair and mud off our legs. 

A.W. wrapped me up in a towel as soon as Lenora brought some out, scrubbing my head with it, despite the fact he hadn’t cleaned himself up at all. “A.W.,” I reminded him, nodding to his muddy and scratched up arms. 

Ronnie supplied for me, “You’re still nasty, dude.”

His eyes went wide for a moment. “Sorry, sorry.”

I scrubbed out both his and Ronnie’s hair, keeping my thumb on the nozzle for some pressure. A perfectly-timed contraction hit, just then, and I dropped the hose out of surprise.

“Milo?” Ronnie asked.

A.W. was only crooning, coming close to me. That alerted the other two, who came around from the other side to make sure we were all alright. 

It wasn’t too painful yet, but I was so anxious that the next thing I concretely remember is being put into the bathtub and having the warm water drawn by Lenora as she rubbed at my hands, cold from the water from the hose. “Where’s A.W.?” I looked around the bathroom, trying to see past the half open door.

“You’re fine,” she reminded me in her perpetually quiet voice. “He’s just getting some clothes for the rest of them.”

“I want some, too.” If they were going to go around wearing his stuff that carried his scent, I wanted to, too. 

“I’ve called my parents to let them know, and A.W.’s calling yours. My moms think the best solution is, even if you’re not in labor, to wait out another contraction, then get you on home. A.W. will drive you.”

I just nodded. 

She was rubbing down my tense shoulders, and I closed my eyes. “I kind of…” I sucked in a breath. “I kind of don’t want to be in labor. Not yet.”

“Maybe. Maybe you’re not.” 

But I knew that if this third contraction came in about twenty minutes, then I’d be on track for a normal progression. I’d have the pups.

When A.W. came in, he was on the phone. He crouched by his sister and lifted a hand to my face. I nuzzled in, scenting it nervously, listening to who might be on the other end.

“No, he’s here. Let me ask him.” He held the phone away. “Milo, it’s Dr. Flannery. He wants to know if you’ve been timing them.”

I shook my head. “Not really. I don’t know specifics, but… I mean, they  _ feel _ regular. No weird jumps or gaps like the other ones...”

“Okay. I’ll time them from–” he lagged. “Time them from here on out.”

“Are the guys still here?”

“Yeah, they wanna stick around. Is that okay?”

I nodded. 

He leaned into the tub and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m gonna go find the car keys. Holler for me if one hits.”

Lenora and I responded at the same time. 

The warm water felt good on my aching leg muscles, and her hands kept rubbing along my shoulders. 

I turned into her more out of fear than out of pain as another contraction came. She was the one to shout for my mate, and she passed me off to his arms as my eyes pricked with tears and I held very still. I could feel him fumbling with his phone behind my wet back, probably marking the contraction duration with that app he’d gotten. 

I heaved a long sigh once it was done, telling him, “It’s over.”

“Let’s get you to your nest, hm?”

I nodded. He stood me up and dried me off a little bit before coming back with some underwear and a shirt of his he’d left behind here. He crouched to help, and I put my hands on his shoulders for balance. 

“One foot… Now the other. Good stuff.” 

I wrapped my arms around him as soon as he’d gotten my arms through the sleeves, telling him, “I think I’m in labor. I think this is it.”

I heard him swallow. He was rubbing up and down my back, scenting my neck, even if the motions were stiff. “You’ve got this.” He pulled back. “And, if it helps, I’ll be right with you.”

“Are you kidding?” I laughed nervously, “Sure I might start cussing you out once it gets really painful, but I need you, idiot!”

He got me home quickly, and Linus, Ronnie, and Declan were in the back, not knowing how to help. 

My mother took my hands, scented at my head worriedly. My father was like a statue.

After Declan helped me up the stairs, he quickly turned around and trotted back down, leaving just A.W. to tuck me into our nest. I relaxed immediately, holding onto the blankets and the baby toys as he collected our things for the hospital, pulling some of the nest from the edges to pack up. I handled the next contraction better, calling out to him, letting him know when it started and finished. 

“We should get you something to eat,” he said under his breath as he rolled up a blanket and stuffed it into our go-bag. 

“Do you have to leave?” I asked, rolling around.

He looked over to me, thoughtful for a moment, then climbed into the nest, holding me to his chest. “I’ll just call your mom or sister. What do you want to eat?”

I was nauseated, but knew I had to stock up on my energy. “Something… clean.” I nuzzled into his chest, hiding my face, hearing his heart beating just as fast as mine.

“Clean… Okay.”

My first snack was apples and peanut butter. A.W. refused to let go of me, and insisted on feeding me bites, distracting me with affection and bad jokes until we went to netflix on my laptop.

When we updated Dr. Flannery, he confirmed what I already knew: this was labor. 

I was picking around my thumbnail obsessively, waiting for the next contraction. I was handling them a lot better, still able to eat and talk.

The second snack was some rolled up ham and cheese on little toothpicks. I frowned at the plate my sister handed me, caressing my head. “Did mom make this?”

“No, your friend Hannah did. Pretty much everyone’s downstairs. Including your parents and sister, A.W.”

Before she shut the door behind her, I pushed up, over A.W.’s shoulder, trying to listen. There were multiple voices downstairs. Someone was laughing. 

I grumbled as I settled back into his hold, “They’re all having a good time while I have to sit up here and suffer.”

A.W. was beginning to feed me again. “Want me to go check it out?”

“No, I wanna go. After the next contraction, I want to go and see what’s up.”

He ran a hand through my hair, kissed the top of my head. “You’re the boss.”

So after he crooned through my next one and I kept my teeth in his mating mark, he hauled me out of the nest and set me on my way to the stairs, keeping a close watch to make sure I didn’t stumble.

Everyone was looking at me as I came down, our pack, my family, A.W.’s family, all their words for me seeming to flow together: how are you? Does it hurt bad? What names have you picked out? They had snack plates on the coffee table, were laughing, talking. 

It actually brought a smile to my face. “So I’m upstairs having contractions, and you guys are down here having a party?”

Hannah rushed me from the direction of the kitchen, hugging me, asking, “You’re okay right? It’s labor, right?”

“Yeah, it’s official. I’m having these pups either today or tomorrow.” I glanced to my mate. “Probably tomorrow, right? Technically?”

He nodded.

People were already talking about their bets. Abby launched up from the couch and went to me, staying a respectful distance because my mate was right behind me, but taking my hands and looking down to my belly, hissing, “Thank you,” to my pups. 

“You didn’t win yet!” A.W.’s alpha mom protested with a pouty little frown, leaning against Lenora. “If it’s a fast birth, then  _ I _ win!”

“Mom!” A.W. admonished, his hands on my shoulders. 

I took his hand, wanting to go sit on the couch with some of our pack. Before I could get there, wetness seemed to gush out of me– not like I was peeing, but–

I looked down to my legs, suddenly covered in water, a puddle on the floor.

“I– It–”

Ronnie cooed, “Aw, your waters broke! Look at that!”

Red was creeping up the back of my neck. I looked to A.W., at a loss for words. 

Thankfully, he knew what to do. He ushered me back upstairs as everyone was cheering down. 

“This is the third shower I’ve had today,” I grumbled to him as he guided me into the bathroom. 

“And it probably won’t be the last.”

After I was all cleaned up, Hannah herself brought up another round of snacks: cheese and pretzels. She stayed with us as we watched old Mythbusters seasons. Eventually she got switched out for Matthew, and that’s how the rotation began. Each one of our friends– sometimes by the pair– came upstairs to hang out for a bit, not asking questions, not pestering, but just spending easygoing time. It was a good distraction. Especially as afternoon turned into evening, and evening turned into night and I was gripping my mate’s hand so hard I thought it would break, squeezing my eyes so tight against the pain of the more and more frequent contractions I saw galaxies each time. 

I couldn’t eat anymore.

I sweated through his shirt, and he helped peel it off me, his croon a constant, the only thing my mind could grasp while in pain. 

That was when we knew it was time to go to the hospital. 

I was crying as A.W. got me up and out, sitting on the edge of the nest as he pushed some flip flops onto my feet. Declan came up to carry our bags down, and A.W. walked backwards down the stairs to spot me. 

Some cheering lifted my eyes as I came down, everyone wishing me well. It actually brought a smile to my face, even if it did fill my eyes with more tears. A.W.’s Beta mother scented my wrist as I said goodbye. Abby told me jokingly, “You take your time, Milo,” while A.W.’s Alpha mother said, “Nope, nope. The sooner the better. Before midnight!”

A.W. came back with a quiet, “Leave him be.”


	8. Fallout Boy

His Beta mom ended up driving me, him, and my mother to the hospital, and parked the car while my mother checked me in and A.W. held onto my hand and the bags. 

It was a small building thanks to our small town, but it’d be just fine. 

I wouldn’t have complications. I kept telling myself that. 

Dr. Flannery met us there as we checked in, and got us into an examination room aside from the emergency room. I’d be the only one giving birth tonight. “Here we are, Milo,” he hummed happily, his smile nearly contagious. He hooked me up to all the machines I was familiar with as I leaned back into A.W.. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

My mate wiped away some of my stray tears as I came out of another contraction. “It hurts… I mean, it’ll probably get worse, but–” I sighed, and my mother rubbed at the back of my head. “I’m tired. It’s making me nervous.”

Dr. Flannery laughed, “Don’t be tired yet, kiddo! You’ve got a little ways more to go. Now, I’m going to check how dilated you are. Is that alright? We’ve done this one before I think.” I nodded, shifting so he could access me better. I clamped onto A.W.’s hand as the doctor examined me. It was uncomfortable, but didn’t hurt badly. “I’d say you’re about three to four centimeters dilated?”

I groaned, so disheartened. I had such a long ways to go until ten… 

“No, no that’s good! Between four and seven is when you should come into the hospital.” He cleaned me up a bit, then directed, “We’re going to go to another room where you can settle in.” He looked to my mate. “You brought some nesting materials, yes?” A.W. nodded. “Good. sometimes being in an unfamiliar environment can slow down labor, so we’re going to counteract that. If he wants to be scented, scent him well. That’ll help, too.”

My mother helped me set up my pillows and blankets in our next room. A.W.’s mom found us, and was having what looked to be a serious conversation with him. I couldn’t hear it. Too distracted. But he rushed to me when I doubled over in the bed as the pain took over again. It got worse every time, and though I tried to hold it behind my teeth, my cries of pain kept slipping out. I hated hearing them. A.W. was just as nervous as I was– I could smell it on him as he scented me. He was crooning, rubbing a hand over my belly when it tensed up. 

I was panting by the end of it, my voice already hoarse, asking, “What time is it?”

“Almost nine.”

I pushed my face into his shoulder and slumped down, rubbing my belly.

I could feel it in his chest when he spoke to our mothers, aside from his croon. “Can we turn the lights down? There’s that standing lamp in the corner. We’ll put that on. Something softer.”

I let out a shuddering sigh as he curled himself around my sweating form, as he reached for my head, gently putting the earbuds in. There was a playlist I’d made– well, multiple, actually. The one he put on was what I’d titled ‘Calm your mantits’. And I couldn’t hear anymore what his mother was talking to him about as he stroked my head with a hand, the other on my stomach, waiting for the next contraction. 

I moved my head near his leg. It nudged out one of the earbuds.

His beta mother was standing a little ways off, speaking softly, but I was surprised at the conviction in her voice. “A.W., I’m telling you, you need to be prepared if he doesn’t want you around him during labor. Your scent–”

“Mom, we’ll get there when we get there. I’m not leaving now.”

I almost grabbed onto his jeans then and there. Why would she think that? When would people like this  _ stop  _ with the Epsilon  _ this _ , Epsilon  _ that _ ?

She crossed her arms. “Or after, even, too. I know you’re worried about the pups, but omegas can get very protective when they’ve just had pups.” She looked to my mother. “You tell him. Was your mate with you?”

“He was…”

She blinked a few times, then looked back to her son. “I’ve read a lot about if–”

His scent was changing, his nerves giving way to something sad. “I know. You sent each one of those articles to me.”

“And did he read them?”

“Why would I show them to him?”

“To prepare him!”

A.W. lifted his hand from my belly to rub his forehead. I quickly brought it back to my belly, and the corner of his mouth lifted as I rolled the beads of his bracelet between my fingers. “All of those cases were the experimental ones. They weren’t mated; it was that placebo. Dr. Flannery– a  _ medical doctor _ – didn’t warn us of anything weird because of me being an Epsilon except for my own possessiveness after the birth.”

I anticipated another contraction coming soon. I lifted my head, needing to speak before I was unable. I let the other earbud fall from my ear. I knew that the pain from labor would give me license to say almost anything I wanted without repercussions. “That’s none of your damn business. The only thing you’re doing is making A.W. believe he’s incapable of so many things. He’s not.” I winced as I felt the start of another contraction, the heaviness seeming to expand in my belly. “If you’re gonna talk shit, then  _ leave _ !”

And then I was crying and he was scenting me, clicking the button to record another contraction.

My mother was a wallflower up until then, but stepped to me and laid a hand on my leg, her voice nearly heartbroken. “Baby…”

This was hell. I was supposed to be happy, but this was hell on all fronts. 

I kneaded my hands into my mate’s leg as I fell down again to his lap, terrified about what could go wrong again, about the pain I’d have to go through. I was tired. I felt too weak to do this, and it scared the shit out of me. I was angry about what people kept telling my A.W.. My own heartbreak was coming back to haunt me. Our third son. He wouldn’t be here with his brothers.

“Fuck.” I sobbed even harder at the thought, my voice getting louder, distress growing from the memory. 

Then it was over and I was still crying.

Dr. Flannery came in all bright and cheery, asking, “Oh dear… Should we start you on the gas and air?”

I nodded, sucking in shaking breaths.

It took a while to really set in, but the gas and air took the edge off the pain. It didn’t make it go away and I still welled up every time, but it was dull now. 

I handed it to my mate with a tired laugh in between contractions. “Try that.”

He huffed a big breath of it, took a moment, and laughed. “That’s some stuff.”

“I love it.”

He got up. I grabbed his arm, as surprised at my grip as he was. “I thought I told you you weren’t going anywhere? Let my mom go if you need something.”

He was smiling, and, sheepish as it sounded, he asked my mom for some ice. She was happy to get it. 

I must’ve been a little more out of it than I should have been, cause as soon as she was out of the room, I whined, “Kiss me.”

“Milo, you’re in fucking labor!” he laughed, scenting the planes of my face gently. “We’re going to have our boys soon.”

I came out and said it. “I’m worried you’re going to be all stand-offish because of what people are telling you.” I had to break for a contraction, puffing my gas and air, feeling light-headed after. “Forget about all that. Go with your gut. You’re my mate and I love you enough to want to have fucking  _ pups  _ with you. You be as possessive and aggressive as you need. I’ll just be clingy.”

“I’m fine right now. I’m not holding anything back,” he told me, giving me a quick kiss, dabbing away some of my sweat and tears. “We’re going to be fine. Don’t worry.” He gathered me up in his arms. “Don’t worry about anything else other than getting those guys out here. I’ll take care of the rest.” Another kiss. 

That was what my mother walked in on. And thankfully, A.W. didn’t seem to care. 

He was chewing on ice along with me. I’m sure this was stressful for him, too, my pheromones wreaking pained havoc all over the place without him able to do anything. 

The hours kept passing by. I grew more and more fatigued.

I was almost fully dilated by one in the morning, meaning Abby had won her bet. A.W. texted her that at my request. I was almost loopy between my fast-coming contractions, listening to my ‘PUUSSSHHH’ playlist full of fast, hard songs. Course I wasn’t pushing yet, but I’d sob and try and sing along, almost managing a laugh before I was cut off by pain and A.W. bringing me the mouthpiece to my gas and air. 

Fall Out Boy was screaming in my ears. The energy lifted my spirits. I’d punch the thin mattress to let my mate know a contraction had started, and he’d slip his hand beneath me to check my belly. It was alright to scream from the agony when I had something to block the sound from my own ears. I couldn’t make out the words in my ears, only the volume.

When I came down from the pain, still huffing the gas and air, I’d sob, “I want an epidural.” A.W. tried to distract me as best as he could. My mother couldn’t meet my eyes. 

A.W. was behind me as I sat on a ball, rolling it around with my hips. I was mumbling the words to Novocaine, trying to find my bravery before the next contraction. As the pain ramped up, I leaned back into him, spewing curses as my voice got louder, as it cracked and I screamed.


	9. Happy Birthday! Part 2!

It was two thirty when Dr. Flannery examined me next. Almost there. 

He put me on an IV, and I almost laughed knowing it’d cost my cheap father even more. It was cold going into my sweat-soaked skin. A.W. stroked the skin around the site on my arm, his brow creased. He looked as pale as I felt. His fingers shook when he touched me. 

I stuck one of my earbuds in his ear as I succumbed to more pain. “Bring it  _ ON– FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK–” _

This felt like the worst one yet, and I screamed so much I didn’t get enough gas and air into me. A.W. had to remind me to breathe, tapping at my chest, my throat to get my attention because I couldn’t hear him over my screeching. 

I was dizzy coming down, leaning into him, crying. 

The only thing in my mind before each subsequent contraction was: One more time. One more time.

The next came quick.

Before I knew it, I was collapsed against him and was biting into his mating mark, drawing blood fast, screaming into his flesh.

He was stoic. He didn’t make a sound, only held me tighter, digging his nails into my arms. I barely knew where I was. All I knew was pain, my pups, and him.

It was three in the morning when I got the go ahead to actually push

I refused to let go of him, some ingrained fear he’d leave during this crucial part because of what people had told him. I was on my knees, grabbing onto him, my teeth diving in and out of the blood on his neck, letting him absorb my noise, letting him keep me upright as I focused all my energy on heaving downward. 

There were so many people in here. I didn’t notice them. A.W. did. As my labor got more and more serious, he held me tighter, growled at everyone who touched me. He knew they were helping, but that didn’t stop him. That was okay. It felt the same as his croon at this point to me. 

There was blood on the mouthpiece to my gas and air. I was shaking violently.

There was fire between my legs and I lost my muscle control, leaving A.W. to catch me.

Dr. Flannery kept coaching me excitedly as the nurses prepared all around us. “That was him, Milo! That’s your pup! Take a breather. We’ll try again. You push when you feel that urge.” 

A.W. hissed in my ear, “They’re almost here. Almost. I’m so excited.”

The words barely registered, but I could smell every emotion of his so clearly. I reached below me, tried to feel my pup’s head. Why couldn’t he just fall out!? I was impatient and began to push. Dr. Flannery had to stop me, worried I’d fissure and tear muscle. My music had fallen out of my ears.

My vision went white on the next push, and I faltered in everything, losing my breath, my strength. 

We tried again.

And again.

Third time.

His head was out. I had to work fast. 

I nearly jumped upon feeling his little body leaving me, and, shaking, turned over my shoulder. 

I almost screamed. 

He looked like his brother had, all pale and–

I asked, “He’s– Is he–” I couldn’t get it out. 

“He’s perfect, Milo, that’s what he is,” Dr. Flannery chuckled. “You get a little break.” My tears were flowing without stopping as I fell to the bed, as I squirmed to get to him. A nurse handed him to me after cleaning out his airways, and A.W. almost ripped her arm off, he lunged so fast. I didn’t care that he was covered in gunk and blood as he gurgled, his breath hitching as mine was.

My son screamed, and I fell apart, heart  _ aching _ , rejoicing. His first breath was a battle cry, and I loved him for that. 

“Jake,” I muttered, looking over to A.W. with blurry eyes as he came back to us. He was crying. I was crying.  _ Jake _ was crying. A family of criers.

After the cord went limp, A.W. snipped it. 

He nearly didn’t let me hand Jake over to get cleaned up and vetted. He had ten fingers and toes and a smushed nose like a blobfish and two good eyes and a cone for a head. He was gray and pink and disgusting and ugly and perfect. 

I got him back quickly in a loosely swaddled blanket and a light blue-striped baby hat, maybe thirty minutes, and my body had decided it was time to give him his brother. 

I was on my side, holding my firstborn to my bare, swollen chest with A.W. overseeing things behind us as I birthed for the second time, my screams mixing with Jake’s.

A.W. took his little brother for me, unable to help his snarling at the nurses before he could cradle him in his arms. I peered over his forearms and he lowered for me so I could see our new son. He looked at me expectantly as I counted the fingers and toes. When I noticed, I said in my broken voice, “It’s your call, love.”

“Jude or Jordan,” he mused, brushing over his son’s nose. “You look like a Jordan to me.”

He passed him over to me, and I held him with his brother for a little while before the nurses took him for the same treatment. 


	10. The McGibbs Boys

Jake was nuzzling in at my chest, looking for food I’d expect, and I looked to my mother, to Dr. Flannery. “I just… stick it in?”

Dr. Flannery stepped to my other side, and A.W. clambered over me, holding his aggressive noises in his throat, unable to overcome his instincts and hormones. The doctor took a step back. Hold him like a football.”

“Never played football, doc.” A.W. bent over me again, and positioned Jake correctly– not that he’d played football, either but– Jake found his way to my nipple and began to suck. I raised an eyebrow. “... I don’t think there’s anything coming out.”

A.W. rested his chin on my other shoulder, looking down to our pup. 

Dr. Flannery asked, “Do you feel pain?”

“In my nipple, no. My ass is another story.”

“Then it looks like he’s latched right. I checked for tongue ties. Give it some time. Your milk will come soon I’m sure. You smell so heavily of it.”

Jordan came back in a matching blanket, screaming, with a darker blue on his hat, and I grabbed him greedily, holding both my pups on my chest, almost crying again, I was so exhausted and relieved. I nuzzled my nose to his, not caring about the fact he was deafening. 

A.W. whispered in my ear, “You’re a god to deliver both of them without an epidural.” He kissed the side of my neck. “A god.” 

I hummed a laugh, and he tucked my IV cord away from Jordan’s bottom. 

Ah, great, now my mother was crying as she stood a respectful distance away. 

Jordan took after his brother, sucking on his side of my chest. I leaned back, closing my eyes. They popped open when I felt pain from my nipple. It felt bent, twisted almost. 

“Ow, ow– Baby, that’s–” I looked to A.W. for help, my hands full. He nudged Jordan away from my nipple, looking confused as he tried to reposition him.

A.W. asked Dr. Flannery. “No tongue tie?”

“No. Angle him up, A.W.– Yeah, like that.”

That seemed to do the trick. 

Jordan was the first who got a taste of milk. I balked at the sensation of let-down.

Both my pups were sucking greedily down every drop they could get.

Which, of course, made me start crying. 

“They’re so healthy,” I sobbed to A.W.

“Our healthy baby boy pups,” he hummed, nuzzling me. 

“Milo,” Dr. Flannery asked hesitantly, “Can we, um, clean you up? The placenta should come soon, so we’ll start now.”

I didn’t mind checking with my mate; it didn’t rub me the wrong way or anything. Something about the way he wouldn’t let anyone touch us put a primal part of me at ease. I knew it would annoy many omegas, but for me, it was perfect. We were perfect together. A.W. nodded into my neck, not looking as they helped me out. 

“Jake and Jordan McGibbs,” I sighed, sleepy.

“McGibbs?” my mother asked, puzzled, stepping closer.

“We mixed our names.”

“Pretty catchy, isn’t it?” A.W. tacked on, gazing down on our hungry pups. “We’re gonna change our last names to that once we’re old enough.”

“Mhm.”

She cocked her head. “Oh…” I guess after everything, that wasn’t the most outlandish thing we’d done. 

The placenta hurt a little bit, but I had my two pups to distract me, like two little ugly stuffed animals. Hungry ones. They unlatched after the nurses were done with me, and A.W. stopped his growling. I looked to Dr. Flannery.

“They have tiny stomachs. They’ll eat when they’re hungry.”

I sighed and nodded.

A.W. took care of everything from there, polite in his words even if he was growling at everyone in the room.

I fell asleep, and he carefully took Jake from my chest and made sure Jordan was secure. 

When I woke up, there was morning light coming through the window and the pups were crying. A.W. was attempting to burp Jake, but it just wasn’t coming, so I fed the both of them again and then their father tried again. I melted every time I got a good look at him holding a pup behind me. 

As they brought me breakfast– pancakes and bacon, eggs and potatoes, pastries and more– I asked him, “Did– Um… Did you not let them bandage your bite?” 

He touched the side of his neck briefly. It was crusted over with blood. I must’ve really ripped into him… “It’s fine for now. You worry about eating.” I  _ was  _ starving.

I snuggled into his side, adjusting Jake with me. “ _ Please _ get it bandaged?”

“... Okay.”

He kept an eye on me as they sat him down to flush and treat the bite. Apparently I’d bitten so hard it’d caused a new rupture of his scent gland. I’d marked him twice. 

After getting all squared away with how I needed to take care of myself, how to clean the pups’ umbilical cords, and another lesson on latching, we were squared away. Two car seats in the back, and we were off. 

I sat between my two pups looking back and forth and back and forth, A.W. in the front seat, my mother driving. 

Their features were becoming slowly unsmushed, and they were looking at me with dark blue eyes characteristic of pups.

“You suckers sure have been a lot of trouble already,” I told them affectionately under my breath. My mom, though, she apparently heard.

“Milo!”

“What?!”

“Don’t talk to them like that!”

“Mom, I’m their father, quit telling me what to do!” I bent over to Jordan, cooing, feeling my affections, my hormones spike as I looked into his glassy little eyes in his fat face, “Jordan doesn’t mind when Daddy speaks his mind, does he? No.” I leaned over to Jake. “Jakey neither!” I called to my mother, “Cause they don’t speak  _ English!” _

A.W. was losing it laughing up there in the front seat.

I loved the little gurgling noises the pups were making. I bust out crying there in the backseat.

A.W. flipped around. “Milo, honey, what’s wrong?” 

“They’re so fucking  _ cute. _ ”

And as I cried, I got both of them to hold each of my pinkies.

A.W. snapped a picture. 

“ _ Alistair! _ That’s embarrassing!” I protested.

“I’m gonna tell them when they’re older that their Daddy burst into tears because he thought they were so cute…”

“DON’T!”


	11. Family Routines

The scene at home wasn’t exactly… great.

It seems everyone who had been here last night during my labor had come back to see the pups. 

And A.W. went ballistic. He couldn’t kill the growl in his chest.

Our omega friends cleared out of his way. He ushered the Betas outside. Declan was trying to help him. His parents were trying to come up and see the babies I carried in each arm; he blocked them with his body. I just waved and used the path he’d cleared among the indigant chaos to go upstairs, letting him do what he needed to do.

Then it was my father. They went head to head.

I didn’t stick around, knowing the sooner I was out of sight, the calmer everything would be.

I positioned Jake and Jordan close to each other in deep divots so they wouldn’t roll and get into something they couldn’t breathe around, and cleared away the blanket flaps near them. I took toys from around the nest, and made a little band of them around my pups, bringing their father’s scent closer to them while he wasn’t here. I itched under the belly band the hospital had given me, then settled on down with them, purring. I couldn’t help it. The pups were making little contented noises as they settled in and I couldn’t help it. I gently scented each, leaning in only a little bit, careful with them as if they were fragile. 

My purring didn’t even stop when A.W. swept into the room, wild-eyed and flustered, shutting the door firmly. “There’s no end to them!” he growled, voice as hoarse as mine. I beckoned him closer, and he made an effort to cool off before he climbed into the nest with us. But he didn’t come close enough. 

“A.W., you good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “Sorry. Sorry I kicked everyone out. It’s overprotective.”

I nudged him with my knee, stifling a yawn. “Don’t be. I didn’t really want to deal with everyone visiting yet anyway.”

“How’re you holding up, honey?” 

I brushed a hand along Jordan’s swaddling. “I’m good. Exhausted. A little queasy. But for now, I’m so, so happy. What about you?”

“Mhm, tired.”

He was worried. “If I could pluck that worry off you like a tick on a dog, I would, you big lump, come here. Come snuggle with me and the pups. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

He scooted up, kissed me on my forehead. “I know. I’m working on it.” Then he settled on the other side of the pups. 

“I can’t stop staring at them. I know I’ve gotta rest, but I can’t.”

“I get what you mean. Have you had enough to eat?”

“Yes,” I assured him, stroking a finger along Jake’s cheek, then Jordan’s closer to me, unbelievably soft. My pups smelled like me, A.W., and my milk for now, the elements that would make their own scents not developed yet. I wondered what dynamics each would be, what life experiences I’d have to teach them. Through bleary eyes, I watched A.W. hesitantly run a finger over Jake’s fingers poking out of his swaddling, and the way my mate’s eyes went soft when his pup held onto his finger made me well up with tears. 

He looked my way. “Milo?”

“I’m too damn hormonal and I love you guys so much,” I blubbered, tiring myself out even further. I cried then.

And then I cried the next time they cried, when they were hungry again.

A.W. was quick to step in and help this time, wiping my eyes as I nursed them, adjusting the pillows beneath them so they’d have a better latch onto my chest. Then he went around behind me and held me, looking down from over my shoulder as he scented me, bandage and all. “You’re doing such a good job, Milo. You’re such a good Daddy for them,” he reminded me, voice softer and sweeter than anything I’d ever heard. “So don’t cry.”

“I– I know,” I got out, sucking in a breath. “It’s just– I’m not used to them crying and– and–” I couldn’t complete the thought, having to focus on breathing. My insides were aching, too, with every sharp heave of breath. 

“It’s difficult, I know,” he placated, nuzzling up to my ear, making it burn with red. He kept his eyes on the pups as he ran his hands over my somewhat-deflated belly, my hips, my arms. “You’re so good, Milo.”

It relaxed me much more than I thought it would. 

Jake finished before Jordan, so A.W. grabbed a burp cloth from the edge of the nest and burped him before we switched out. While I got my chest situated, pulling on the thin bra I’d now be wearing on my not-so-flat-anymore chest to soak up any leaks, A.W. checked their diapers. They were clean for now, but they’d probably have their third poop soon, so we stayed awake. For me, I was afraid of closing my eyes around them. I was afraid that while I wasn’t watching something would happen. I almost proposed 24-hour surveillance to my mate before I got my sense back. 

A.W. heaved himself out of the nest with what looked like great effort, saying, “I’m going to go get you some water. You’re going to need it.”

I gathered my pups in my arms, and one by one, adjusted their little hats. Since our boys were identical, they needed to have something on them at all times that reminded us which was which. I leaned back into a mass of pillows and practiced shutting my eyes; it was easier than it seemed, seeing as I was going on about four hours of sleep after a long labor. Of course, I wouldn’t be getting long sleeps anytime soon with how frequently these little stinkers needed their milk. I had to be grateful, though, that my milk had come in, and I was able to chestfeed without much hassle. It really helped our expenses.

“I am a milk cow,” I mumbled to A.W. as he returned with a giant water bottle and a thick silicone straw.

“A handsome milk cow,” he reminded me, climbing in, holding the water for me so I could drink. 

I chuckled, warbling, “Getchu a mans that calls you handsome after childbirth!”

“Are you kidding me? That was one of your finest hours. Well, multiple hours, but still! You pushed these two little guys out of you after literally  _ creating  _ them.”

“You called me a god.”

“You  _ are _ a god.”

I was giddy from my mate’s praise. It seemed I couldn’t get enough, and he wasn’t going to stop giving it, so it worked out nicely. 

He screwed the lid on tight and placed it behind me near the wall for ease of access. “I’m about to pass out.”

“Me, too.”

“Wanna put the pups down or no?”

“No, I wanna hold them.” I had pillows supporting them from nursing, so even with my arms relaxed around them, they weren’t going anywhere. They both had their little eyes closed. “... What if we mix them up?”

“I don’t think they’d mind it at this point.”

“A.W.!”

“We’ll figure out a way. Until then.” He stifled a yawn. “Hats.”

“Good plan, darlin’.”

I must’ve fallen asleep after that, but the next thing I woke up to was crying. And my first couple of reactions? Panic. And then anger. And then guilt. Then anger again because I couldn’t maneuver them properly.

A.W. was reaching across the nest to grab a pup and give me a better range of motion. “If one cries, they both cry,” he mumbled, pulling Jake close to his chest. 

I held Jordan up, fighting back my frustrated, tired tears. He was cute, but he was  _ loud.  _ “What’s the matter, hm?” I checked his diaper: clean. His toes weren’t caught up in anything beneath the blankets. A.W. checked the same things. “Must be hungry.” I repositioned the pillows and got… Jake? NO. Jordan to latch before A.W. handed me Jake. He was checking his phone. “What time is it?” 

“Four. In the afternoon. Can I go grab us something to eat or do you need me here?”

I hesitated. I wanted him to be behind me like before and hold me while I nursed the pups. But if he was hungry… “Yeah, sure.”

He rolled out of bed, accidentally stepped on a toy and cursed before heading out, shutting the door behind him.

I didn’t feel unsafe per se… But it was a strange feeling of emptiness and unease being alone so suddenly. I didn’t know what I’d do if one of the pups had something happen and I couldn’t do anything. I checked my phone as I nursed, but had to stop because Jordan got a weird latch that felt like it was pulling my nipple off my skin. Most of the texts were from our friends. Some were really annoyed at A.W., others were defending him and his instincts. I didn’t reply to any of them. But this was one thing that people had been right about. Since he was an Epsilon, a ‘loner’ dynamic, he wasn’t tolerating anyone being around his pups. Of course, he’d covered up his loner tendencies with his extroverted personality; he liked chatting, he didn’t hate people. For me, well, an omega was supposed to feel safe in groups. Since I had my own introvert tendencies, it worked well with the way A.W. was guarding us; I didn’t mind the seclusion the way others would. It felt good to keep the interpersonal relationships simple at this stage in the game: me, my mate, and our litter of pups. 

I would’ve fallen asleep had it not been for the persistent suckling of my pups, but I jolted back into true wakefulness when A.W. returned. 

“Hannah left us some sandwiches,” he explained, setting the plate down near me. I pulled my hand from under Jake and grabbed one, barely tasting the flavor, but eager to get the calories in me. We had to burp the pups before we could really get down to eating, and then we set them before us, making clear space for them to lay. 

I leaned my head on A.W.’s shoulder as we ate, as we watched them wave their tiny hands around, sometimes bumping into each other. 

And then it was back to bed.

In that respect, we were really lucky we hadn’t left my home. It was summer, so we had no other obligations besides taking care of our pups, not even chores like laundry were necessary because my mother was taking care of that. 

In the next few days, I really became a milk machine, eating and drinking when I nursed, sleeping when I didn’t, waking when the pups woke, sleeping when they slept. Simple as it was, it helped me keep my sanity. Sometimes I’d wake up to A.W. having skin to skin time with one or both of the pups, chuckling softly as he’d trace their features with the tip of his finger, watching their eyes follow it, and I would sometimes cry at the sight of it. I was crying a lot that first week. 

And, after a week, his instincts were calming down. My sister got to come into town, taking a break from her internship, and actually sleep in her own room upstairs without him putting up a fight. My mother got to come into our room and hold our pups for the first time. We went downstairs and interacted with the family like normal, even when his side came over; the only person not allowed to hold our pups was my father, and this caused some tensions in the household. But A.W. would not concede.

We also thought it was a good time to have our pack of friends come over in pairs to introduce them to the pups. A.W. thought it was just as precious as I did, and everyone got to take a picture holding them. If either one of us ever made an album, these would definitely be included. We took them to Dr. Flannery’s colleague, a Beta woman Dr. Nierdel, the town’s resident pediatrician. Only after that amount of handling, did A.W. let my father hold the pups, and even then, when I was internally gushing over how cute they looked with their Grandpa, he kept a careful eye on them. 

By the end of week two, we’d figured out a difference between the pups: Jordan had a tiny birthmark on his right side. Just a little dark spot that looked like a freckle. We still kept the cap system, though for the most part when they weren’t dressed in differentiating outfits. A.W. liked to kiss it, and I thought that was the most adorable thing. He didn’t seem scared of them not taking to him anymore. 

Me and the pups had gotten our nursing down pat. Jake was usually on my left, and Jordan on my right. I’d gotten A.W. in the habit of holding me while I nursed them if he was awake. He was the one who most noticed how my belly was shrinking, being the one to run his hands all over me. I’d stopped all traces of bleeding a while ago, and while I’d been taking quick showers while he or my mother and sister watched the pups, I hadn’t been able to take a full bath for a while. 


	12. The Milk Man

With my mother and sister watching the pups downstairs, I got to run this bath as hot as I wanted, not worried about the internal temperature of my womb anymore. As I sank down, I winced at the pressure that went to my rear, before relaxing into sitting. When freaking ass-babies are involved, it’s like hemorrhoids from hell. AND my dick and stuff got all bruised up from the pressure. Thankfully, I didn’t prolapse or even deep-fissure like some male omegas do– still not sure how I dodged that bullet considering I was too-young and relatively small. 

I jumped as the bathroom door opened, grabbing onto the sides, glaring at my mate in the doorway. “I brought you snacks,” he said, swinging on in happily, shutting the door and coming to sit by the edge of the tub with his bowl of frozen blueberries I generally liked to pop into my mouth while nursing. The cold would feel nice in contrast to the hot water.

He held up a blueberry to my mouth, and I accepted it carefully. “Wow, A-plus service,” I joked.

He put on his sappiest voice. “Only the best for my snugglemuffin.”

“NOO!”

The whole ‘feeding your mate snacks in the bathtub’ soon devolved into us competing to see who could toss and catch the most blueberries in our mouths, and before I knew it, I was fishing blueberries out of my bathwater from the failed attempts of him trying to chuck them into my mouth. 

I leaned my elbows onto the ledge of the tub, sticking out my tongue for another blueberry, which he carefully placed this time. I sighed, “How’re the pups?”

“They’re fine. They kept drifting in and out of sleep, so they’re pretty content right about now.”

“Mm.” I was, too. Usually I was either high-strung and fawning over the babies or upset and angry and crying because  _ they _ were upset and crying. But right now, I  _ was _ content. And my mate knew it. 

His smile dropped and he ducked to kiss me; we both tasted like blueberries. 

“What was that for?” I teased, looking up at him happily as he ran a hand over my cheek. I was  _ so  _ happy we were free this summer– no work, no school. We could focus on our growing family. He was a part of that family. 

“Cause you look so good right now.” I brushed it off with a scoffing sound. “I dunno either, man, maybe it’s the hair or the angle or something but–” he sighed. “You look really handsome.”

How couldn’t that bring a smile to my face? Here I was, perpetually sleep-deprived, all swollen up in some places, all deflated in others, and he was calling me handsome. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I mumbled, grinning. I lifted my chin for another kiss. And another. And another. “I mean, you look dead, but still hot.”

He pulled back, scowling. “Some kind of zombie-lover? Milo, are you a secret monster-fucker?”

“Quit that.” 

“Do my dark circles turn you on? Huh?  _ Huh? _ ”

He was loopy from lack of sleep. “A.W., I will kick you out of this bathroom, so help me–”

He cut me off with a kiss, something he never did. “No, I don’t think you will.” He pulled back, and my interest grew slowly as he yanked off his shirt and stripped down. “Can’t kick me out if I’m naked, too.” He stepped in behind me; the water rose to my shoulders.

“Wanna bet,” I teased, looking over my shoulder to him behind me; he was still smiling. Course I wouldn’t actually go through with it. 

He rested his head in the crook of my neck and sensation zipped through my skin as he took in my scent. “Are you… happy?”

No point in lying, now was there? Not with his nose in my scent gland. “I’m not sad, that’s for sure. You?”

He seemed hesitant to say. I swallowed nervously, dripping water droplets on the top of his knee on the outside of mine. “I… It’s just hard.”

“Don’t need to tell me that.”

“I know.”

“I’m tired.”

“I know.”

I shouldn’t have been guilty at the negative feelings building up in me. I’d been told time and time again I’d feel this way after the birth, after taking care of a litter around the clock. But I was. And I worried A.W. would see those feelings as a threat, like I had been mistaken about wanting the pups. 

I didn’t say another word. He was falling asleep there on my shoulder. I glanced back to him, the new scarring on his mating mark catching my eye. 

As I splashed upon shifting, turning to face him, he woke up, eyes half-lidded. “Hm?”

“...Wanna do it?”

It took him a moment to process, and my ears grew steadily redder. He ran his wet hands across my cheeks, pulling me up and into him for a kiss before telling me in a sleep-hoarse voice, “Not for me, but I’ll lend you a hand.”

Course, he changed his mind once he’d gotten me into a rough and frenzied mess, so I got to touch him, too. 

Maybe that hadn’t been one of my best ideas, because while we were catching our breath on each other’s shoulders, limbs feeling like jelly, I heard the tell-tale wail of one of our pups. It soon turned to a duet I was familiar with. 

I smacked my lips, squeezed my eyes shut tight. “Duty calls… Dammit, they’re gonna be all colicky now.”

A.W. seemed to ignore that for just a little while longer for my sake. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I panted. To be honest, I felt like crying I was so frustrated. But there was nothing I could do besides swallow it. My body knew my pups were hungry; the sound of them crying caused me to get milk on the bath towel. I didn’t bother with real clothes like A.W. was, just wrapped the towel around my waist and hustled on downstairs as fast as my worn out body would let me, nearly missing the last step on the stairs. 

My mom and sister each had a baby over their shoulder as they tried to hush them, my sister with Jake, my mother with Jordan. 

“Milk man’s here,” I announced, grabbing some pillows to settle the pups onto on the couch, sitting myself down. 

“Try letting them suck on your finger for a little bit before milk,” my mother suggested as she passed Jordan down to me. Jake came next, and I gave each a pinky. Jake was still crying around my finger, so I rubbed his little, red forehead with my thumb, hushing them desperately. It took a little while, but they were finally able to nurse, and I sat there nodding off every so often; the pups knew what to do by now. They didn’t need me to try and position them.

My sister’s scent didn’t startle me anymore since she’d been home for a while, and I didn’t balk when she came up behind me and handed me some water to drink. “Good job.”

I kept silent. It wasn’t a good job; it was just me trying and failing most of the time to stay ahead of their needs. 

After they were done, I burped Jake, and Mom burped Jordan. I made sure their noses weren’t blocked from all the crying, and watched them settle down, keeping a hand on each as they nuzzled into my chest for comfort instead of food.

Once they were content, I asked my mother, “Can you watch them for a bit more? I need a breather.” 

She nodded, but I could tell she was questioning it. 

I placed each pup into a little divot among the pillows and blankets on the couch, careful not to disturb them too much. And then I went outside to the back porch and stood and cried. 

The hot summer wind dried me off fast from my bath, but didn’t clear up the tears fast enough. 

I felt trapped. In the house, inside my chest. But at the same time, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to keep the babies in that environment, that nest, I’d spent so long preparing for them. 

“Fuck,” I sniffled, wiping my running nose. 

Being a father, a maternal parent of a father, meant I had no time for dramatic thoughts like I had in my past. I wanted to smoke and wander around under bridges and in the woods until everything went numb; but the pups could not and  _ would  _ not be exposed to any kind of second-hand smoke, that much was for sure, and I couldn’t take them to those places I liked to hide in. 

I dried my face with my towel and forced myself to pull it together. It was exhausting how I wanted two separate things at once: I chose the only option I could choose. I gave into that urge to be with my pups and hold them close. 

Jake was awake and looking around the room when I came in, though Jordan was fast asleep. My mother was reading a book between them, tapping a pattern onto Jake’s swaddled tummy.

I scooped him up, nuzzling in close, letting his scent calm me down. I held him with an arm– he was still small enough I didn’t need two– as I dug through the fridge for some yogurt. 

A.W. came down just as I accidentally plopped some on his forehead, and  _ thankfully  _ he didn’t start crying and wake his brother up. I just lifted my pup up and licked the splotch off before wiping him with a wet tissue.

We had a relaxed rest of the summer as we got accustomed to our pups and their little personalities. Jake was the loud and active pup, and Jordan was the one that stared into your soul and hummed like a lawnmower. We could finally tell them apart by their faces, which eliminated A.W.’s fear that we’d mix them up. It was like a little bubble of only good things: milk and naps and skin-to-skin time and baths.

That bubble had to pop sometime.

And it did so. Violently. 


	13. Legally Obligated

It was after we had visited Dr. Nierdel– the pups’ pediatrician and also where we got the majority of our school shots. If I actually went to the doctor at any kind of regular interval, she could’ve been considered my doctor, too. 

A.W. and I were on opposite sides of the car, me in the middle seat, him out the door, strapping in the car seat buckets with our pups in them. My mother had proven herself the most supportive parent out of the four, and not busy, accompanied us everywhere we needed. It wasn’t like I couldn’t just bring the insurance card and her credit card and do it myself, but I felt like she wouldn’t let me do that.

As I made sure the seat belt straps were secure over Jake as he drooled and kicked his legs, I recalled my mother’s changing face as the total was rung up after the appointment– it had just been a glimpse because we had to get out of the waiting room quickly, but still…

I sat in the back with the pups as usual, rubbing Jordan’s tummy as he fussed, still upset from all the poking. A.W. drove, and my mother was staring at the receipt. 

I was struggling to keep my chill, unease lingering in every part of my body, making me twitchy from the anxiety and only fanned by the constant lack of sleep. 

Even with the insurance my family had, how it covered me and my pups, that number on the receipt seemed daunting. Our parents were legally obligated to pay child support since both my mate and I were still legally dependents, but while that meant A.W. wasn’t in charge of child support, neither was I. 

And I couldn’t do anything but hold my two pups bundled together as my mother tucked the receipt away under the paper towel holder in the kitchen for my father to see when he got home.

I didn’t know how to ask her what she was thinking about when she did that, or why I smelled muted guilt coming off her as she passed me. I shifted Jordan a little closer to my shoulder, as if subconsciously trying to block him from that troubling scent. 

In the afternoon, we went to Matthew’s to try and beat the heat, splashing around in the pool and get some summer reading done. 

Matthew read  _ The Kite Runner  _ aloud as I lay on a chair in the shade with a fussy Jake and A.W. played with Jordan in the water. I could tell he wasn’t paying attention to the book much, cooing and talking to Jordan quietly as our pup gazed down into the water around his legs, moving his head around, holding his elbows in close to A.W.’s chest. 

Matthew sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before pushing his glasses up, suddenly stopping in his reading. I had to run back through to process what line he’d stopped on. “Assef’s being an ass again,” I sighed.

“If we have to do a character essay, he’s gonna be easy to write about but  _ God,  _ I  _ hate  _ him!”

“Well, sparknotes did say,” I paused to smile and coo at Jake as he wiggled and lifted his head up from my stomach, looking around with wide eyes and an open mouth, “that he’s basically everything evil in Afghanistan. Doesn’t he become a Nazi?”

“It’s worse because he’s an alpha. Imagine Hitler as an alpha.”

“Mm,” I hummed.

Matthew looked over to Jake, putting down the book. He leaned my way, wiggling his finger at Jake. “Hi, booboo! Hey!” Another smile grew on my face as Jake’s wiggling got more active, as he tried to focus on the face in front of him and take in the scent. “You don’t have any guesses as to what they are?”

Dynamic-wise.

I brushed my hand over Jake’s head, feeling the silkiest tufts of brown hair, the soft spot on his bobblehead. “... I’m afraid to try and figure it out,” I admitted. “There’s a lot of weight that comes with that.” 

“There is. But dynamics aren’t supposed to be shameful. May I?” He had his hands out, asking for my pup. I nodded and handed him over; Jake wasn’t always good with people other than me and A.W. (Jordan was better), but since we’d been sitting here a while and, of course, he’d met Matthew multiple times, he didn’t cry or start to whimper, but his breathing did pick up in excitement. 

“He’s liable to drool on your shirt, there,” I warned Matthew with a grin.

“Is that why you never wear shirts anymore?” he joked. 

I rolled my eyes, tucked my hands behind my head. “It’s hot, okay! And what’s the point if I’m gonna take it off every two hours to nurse!? Heck, I don’t even wear the nursing bra anymore!”

“A.W. did tell me you squirted him once.”

I bolted up. “HUH?” I  _ definitely _ knew of a few times that had happened–

Jake began kicking his legs on Matthew’s stomach more excitedly. My friend laughed, “Yeah, I guess you didn’t see it in the group chat, but he said the twins started crying and they were closer to him that night and when you reached over him, he got a faceful of milk.”

I smacked my forehead with a hand, relieved A.W. hadn’t shared the other times I’d inadvertently had a let-down... “Shit happens, man! All the goddamn time! When the pups cry, my tits react!”

He was nodding, laughing, as he held Jake on his chest. “Oh, I know! It’s a great adaptation I think!”

“Don’t you go on a Biology rant now, we’re doing  _ English _ . Now give me that book.” I snatched it up from over his knee, and scanned until I saw where he’d left off. “ _ Ass _ ef’s being racist again.”

“For fuck’s sake…”

A.W. decided to hear that right then after being in his own little world with Jordan for half an hour, and hollered over, “Matthew! Don’t cuss in front of my pup!”

Matthew scowled over at him. “Dude! Didn’t you hear what your  _ mate _ said before that!?”

I snickered, knowing I’d get away with it.

It was a good break before the storm hit at home. 

We got back around the time my father got off work. Maybe it’d been a bad shift. Maybe his boss had done something. But I already knew he wasn’t happy before he went into the kitchen to see that receipt. 

A.W. came up behind me as I watched from the doorway, Jake perched over his left shoulder, Jordan on the right. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Are you alright? Did he do something?”

I swallowed. “Not yet.”

If A.W. got involved now–

I turned to him, opened my mouth to tell him he should go upstairs and I’d follow in a minute, but I didn’t have time. 

My father exploded.

“Five hundred seven fucking dollars? For those two pups?!” he shouted, the receipt in his hand. It wasn’t my fault. I had to remind myself it wasn’t my fault. Dr.  Nierdel had a monopoly on vaccinations here in our small town, and we hadn’t wanted a doctor so far away– “First the fucking hospital now  _ this? _ ”

I puffed myself up, left my mate behind me, a protective instinct making me snarl, “Would you rather your grandsons not be vaccinated at all?”

He turned my way, his eyes wide with disbelief and anger, all directed at me right now. I couldn’t flinch. Not now. “This is what I told you back when you were pregnant– pups are money-sucking screamers.”

“You like them.” I reminded him. I wouldn’t use the other L-word. I refused.

“Yeah, cause they’re  _ my _ grandsons!” His eyes fixated on A.W., stoic, behind me. “But they’re also his parents’...” He stepped to him, and I couldn’t stop myself from moving aside growling as I did, choked by his aggressive scent. “You. Tell your parents to reimburse us. I’ll take a check. We covered the entire birth. It’s their turn to step up.”

“I’m not going to act as a go-between,” he asserted voice rough as he held back his own growl. 

This was bad– he was holding the pups. 

All I could do was hurry and take them from him, pulling them close to me, one in each arm, close to my neck, my scent, covering them over in calm as their whimpers quieted. With them with me, A.W. might not go berserk as easily… 

He added, looking to the pups, “If you want something from them, you’re going to have to talk to them yourself.” My father began to speak, but A.W. cut in, asking, “Or, what, you think you can use me to get more out of them? I’m out of their house now.”

My father snarled, “Yeah, and free-loading at mine, you piece of shit Epsilon! Who do you think you are? Why aren’t  _ you  _ out there providing for your family? You think you can just leech off me, you  _ fucking lazy– _ ”

I couldn’t take it. 

I knew I’d been trying to avoid a fight, but if he wasn’t going to snap, I would.

With the pups crying into my neck, I stomped back over to them, shouting, “You deal with this on your own! Don’t you even  _ begin  _ to pull my family into it! It may be about us, but you and everyone else have made it fucking clear that we don’t call the shots! You leave us out of it!” He was staring at me with wide eyes. No response. “ _ You hear?! _ ”

He wasn’t yelling when he scoffed, “Your family, huh? What does that make me? I clothed you, fed you, raised you. I paid for everything you could ever want and–”

“And you made us suffer for every little thing, Dad! You wanted payment and you got it every time you harassed us! You are  _ legally obligated  _ to support us, Dad! It’s not a question of how grateful we should be when you keep biting our heads off at every turn! I’m sick and tired of having to watch my step around you thinking ‘How can he abandon us this time?’! And you know what? You’re right to go to the Gibbs’ for money! They’re obligated, too! But I don’t need you to take out your fucking stunted emotions out on us!” 

I was panting by the end of it, but my father launched into his own part, voice strong. “You think you’re grown enough to talk the talk,” he threatened, stalking closer to me. “You don’t know a single thing about responsibility, you oversized brat. Don’t get on your soapbox with me, Milo.” His voice got dangerously low. I could literally feel my gums itching, my teeth ready to bite as I bared them threateningly. “The next time you insult me like that, I’ll punch your fucking lights out.” My skin crawled with cold and shock.

I hadn’t been paying attention to A.W., so focused on my father’s body language, scent, and words, backdropped by my pups’ wailing, so when he seemed to come out of nowhere, I jumped.

He barely had it together; I couldn’t breathe over the scent of burned rubber suddenly in my nose. “You touch him, and you’re leaving this house either in cuffs or a gurney.”

“Watch yourself, boy.”

And with that, it was over, the tension shattering, the scents falling, as my father headed to his room. 

I just looked at my mother who sat petrified on the couch. I could not find it in me to be angry with her this time. Not when I was so shaken, too. 

And I didn’t mind how chemical smoke was all I could smell as A.W. came to me. 

I suddenly grew aware of how hard the pups were crying, the front of my shirt soaked in snot. My voice faltered as I tried to speak to them. “I’m sorry– I’m– Daddy’s so sorry. It’s over now, so don’t–” A.W. eased Jake out of the crook of my arm. He only seemed to cry harder. A.W. noticed it, and stiffened. I let him put him back in my arm as he stepped away, seeming even more troubled. I put a bounce to my step as I walked with the pups and tried to calm them down, going to the other couch, laying them close so they could help each other as I stroked down their tummies gently, putting my all into letting out calming pheromones as I scented them, my rambling whispering catching on every hushed s and soft t. I kissed their ruddy cheeks, rubbed their heads, got as close as I possibly could. “Dad and Daddy love you. We never meant to scare you. My father’s just being an ass. I called him out. Pops stood up for us though. We’ll work it out. I promise. I promise. By the time you grow up, we’ll be functional. I promise…”

A.W. came down to my level behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to him. He said, “I’m going to get out of the house so it can air out. I need an outlet. Is that okay? Do you need me to stay?”

It was for the best he left right now, so I told him, “You can go. Text me, though, please. So I don’t worry.”

He nodded.

Then he was out the front door and gone. 

My mother finally got up to help me comfort the pups, and I got to pick up Jordan while she held Jake. She helped me clean up their spit up on the back of my shirt, their snot. All that crying had made them hungry, so I nursed them after a little while once they started making their cues I recognized and I could smell traces of what I can only call hunger from them. They were both good latchers by now, so I just lay down and let them do their thing while I held them, trying to comprehend what had just happened. 

The only bright spot in all of this was my outburst had been the most articulate I’d ever been in the face of my father. And it was all because I’d needed to protect the pups. 

A.W. finally texted a couple hours later that he’d walked for a little while, it hadn’t helped, and he sought out Abby, Declan, and Matthew. They’d gotten him moving, helped him expend his rage while keeping him contained. 

The pups were sleeping at ten, and I should have been as well, but between the fight, A.W. not being here, and my sister talking on Skype to one of her friends in her room, I couldn’t seem to manage it. I hadn’t had time to swaddle the pups, and they were doing their thing where they held each other, probably the same way they had in the womb for a while… I took multiple pictures, sent it to everyone I knew, and that seemed to be what drew A.W. home to us. 

I had an arm around the pups and was curled in towards them when he burst into our room– I’d been paying too much attention to our litter to recognize his steps on the stairs. He smelled like sweat, and had beads of it dripping from his face, his hair wet, still panting, as if he’d run here. 

“A.W.,” I murmured, almost a question as I took in the sight of him. 

He came to the nest, took me by the hand, pulled me up out of it, and kissed me. Hard. 

I tried to ignore how he smelled like exertion and exercise and our pack as he scented me because I fully expected to go to sleep after this. But something about the way he held my face and watched me as I panted had something else waking up in me. 

He kissed me again, and somehow, my back found the wall beside my nightstand, my arms found their way around his neck. 

I didn’t even get around to asking him how he was, if he was calm– because hell, no, he wasn’t. 

His hands left my face, raked down my sides, held my hips against his as I grabbed his head for another kiss, feeling absolutely dizzy from the sudden intensity of it all. But it wasn’t such a bad thing. I winced and shuddered as his hips pushed at mine and he felt what I couldn’t hide. 

He was acting like he was in rut, which could have been a possibility if not for the fact we were mated; he didn’t have rut if I didn’t have heat. 

His chest was heaving against mine as I broke the kiss out of surprise when he reached down between us and my entire body jolted in response. “Milo?” he asked, his barely restrained voice, as soft as it was, filling me up with want. 

I was fine. 

No I wasn’t.

“Can we…?” I whispered, trailing my fingers along the far side of his neck as he scented me between every kiss. 

He smiled through a shiver. “Can we what?” 

Damn him, he knew how to make me squirm and beg for it. 

I did hesitate, though. What I wanted right now was something we hadn’t done for almost two months. We were way past the go-ahead week, so I knew it wouldn’t hurt me, but… 

I lost courage, and gave myself an easy way out by bringing him down to kiss me again after a hushed, “Nevermind.” Maybe he was more needy than I was right now. If all he wanted was something quick, I’d let him be the judge of that. He’d backed off to scent me properly, and I could barely see straight as he licked at my scent glands. My hands found his hips, and I pulled him back right up against me by his belt loops, squirming at the feeling. My voice kept breaking as I told him, “Not here,” trying to block the moans and purring in my chest by biting onto the sleeve of his shirt.

“Bathroom,” he huffed, raking his teeth over my mating mark, then my mouth. 

I balked at the thought of leaving the pups, and he picked up on that, giving me a little space for me to talk. “We can’t leave them!”

“They’re asleep, together, and nothing’s in their way that could harm them.”

I bit my tongue, thinking for a moment. “... Okay.”


	14. First Time

My legs were wobbly as I climbed back into the nest to check on them, double checking that there wasn’t anything in their space that could impede their breathing. Dr. Nierdel did remind me that they didn’t need minute by minute supervision. I couldn’t stop myself from scenting them a little, bringing A.W.’s scent to them. Jordan rolled his head in his sleep, and I kissed his brow below his cap. 

A.W. was watching me fondly, and when I came back to him, he held my arms, and said, “I loved that. You scenting them like that.” I could tell he did. I loved it too. I loved loving our pups. 

And I loved loving him, too.

We left the door to our room open just in case, before we ducked into the bathroom, locked the door, and continued where we left off.

His breathing was hitching in his throat as I held his head to scent him, his hips twitching every so often; that was how I knew this had the potential to be fast.

He boosted me up on the bathroom counter, and my head fell back as his ducked under my chin, kissing at my throat, primal in the way his teeth caught on my skin, rough and messy. “Milo,” he said into my neck, an almost-whine. He cleared his throat, still-panting-open mouthed, and rested his forehead to mine, asking, “I don’t–” he cleared his throat again as he tried to control his breathing, “know if it’s still too soon for you, or– or if you’re not in the mood for that specific–”

My fingers curled up in the collar of his t-shirt, flashes of red creeping up the back of my neck. “I want you in me.”

I felt his brows move. “Yeah?”

I nodded.

“It’s been a while. I’m gonna have to–”

I bit part of my lip, unable to look him in the eye right now. “Do it.” He surged in for a kiss, and I leaned back against the mirror, bringing him with me. Feeling him on the inside of my leg, I knew I didn’t want to make him wait. “Hold up.” He pulled away from me, waiting expectantly. I rubbed his crotch with my knee, purring, “Epsilon?” as his mouth fell open and he visibly struggled to contain his voice just from that. 

I scooted closer to him to slip down off the counter, and pushed closer still to undo his pants before getting up close and personal.

I didn’t try and tease him with my tongue, just took him into my mouth, keeping it soft for him. Looking up, I liked the way he looked from this view. As I was moving slowly, so was he, being mindful and gentle, even as his fingers trembled on my head. I pulled back with a pop and he grit his teeth, a moan coming from behind them. “Take your shirt off?” I asked, my voice barely at a whisper. He did, and left it balled up on the counter as he held my head again.

I watched the way his middle twitched as I kept going, the way he stiffened up as he held back the volume from his moans. 

He reached a hand behind him and grabbed a wad of tissues and I took that as my signal, going harder on him until he jolted and I pulled back, the tissues right on time. 

He was shaking a little bit, especially in his arms as he held the ledge of the counter behind him, as I licked him clean, and it must have been contagious because I was shaking soon too, in anticipation.

He brought me up, hands on my face, and nuzzled my nose, whispering, “Your turn.”

I licked my lips. There was an element of nervousness in me, and it mixed with excitement, making my stomach drop as he helped me undress. 

He grabbed a towel, and laid it on the bathmat in front of the sink, following me down. 

His fingers slipped down the back of my thigh, feeling around my backside. His voice turned in surprise. “This wet just from sucking?” My breathing was erratic as he traced around my entrance, having me jolting, and biting my tongue to keep quiet. He leaned over me to whisper in my ear, “There’s so much, Milo. Can you feel it?” He suppressed his own groan as he kissed at my ear. 

I could feel it. I could feel it dripping out when he’d gotten me up against the wall. 

He slid his fingers to my front, and my legs tensed as I slapped my hands over my mouth, the back of my head bumping the floor. “Here, too.” His head travelled downward to my chest. “And here,” he said affectionately. It wasn’t a full let-down, but I was definitely leaking. He licked at a nipple, and I squirmed at how  _ different _ it felt with him. “I wouldn’t take the pups’ supper,” he teased. “But… Just enough to make their Daddy happy, hm?”

It felt so good to have him kneading at my chest, licking up whatever spilled out, as he worked me down below slowly, alternating between the front and the back, keeping a close eye on my face, on my expressions, making sure he wasn’t hurting me. 

At first his fingers were overwhelming. I’d toss my head, bite my mouth shut, hang onto his head. But soon, they weren’t enough. I wanted every part of my insides to feel him. 

“A.W., please–  _ hurry! _ ” I tried, only further crazed by his scenting as he mouthed at my mating mark. 

“Ready?” he asked, plunging his fingers in once more, pumping.

I nodded desperately, and kept nodding until he pulled me up. He manually put my forearms on the bathroom counter, and my back arched down as he lightly ran his nails down my spine. His hands were on my hips. I could see him in the mirror. He rubbed against me and I pushed back a little, my head falling to my forearm, my teeth latching on as he kept me waiting and  _ waiting.  _ It was all for a purpose– to not hurt me– but I was going crazy at this point. 

“Here goes,” he puffed, breaching me. I cried out around my arm, and he paused, his breathing rough again. “Hurts?”

I shook my head. “ _ Hurry! _ ” I tried to tell him, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

He pushed in slow and steady from there on, until I was full and adjusting to him, panting hard. I didn’t have any more words, but rubbed back against him to tell him to go, whimpering. 

And as soon as he moved I was in heaven, my mouth hanging open, my moans unhindered, legs shaking. I’d missed this way. I’d  _ missed it. _

He didn’t even need to touch my front for me to finish, and it looked like he hadn’t been expecting it, his eyes wide on mine as I gasped and shuddered, watching him and his face and the way his hands tightened on my hips to keep me up and steady. It did something for him because he went harder, his knot bumping against me.

We both knew I wanted that; I nodded to him to confirm it. 

There was a slight twinge of pain as he slipped the knot in, and I couldn’t breathe for a moment at the excess fullness. But it was worth it to feel him inside me and see that look in his eyes.

He caught his breath for a few seconds before leaning over me, kissing my neck, meeting my half-lidded eyes in the mirror. He slid a hand to hold the back of my neck, and the tension in my back relaxed, my eyes closed, and I began to purr. 

He hummed happily in my ear and I smiled at how it tickled. 

That was how we stayed until he was able to leave me; I threw him in the tub and gave him a good scrubbing, finding dirt and mud on his ankles, even behind his ears. “What were you doing?”

He was shrugging his shoulders as I scrubbed behind his ears, and I could see his piercings as he spoke, a bit too focused on his mouth. “I told you. I went to the woods, almost ran into Larry– the guy from the Beal’s parking lot?– then met up with Abby, Declan and Matthew. 

“You’re all nastied up.”

“So are you now, too,” he pointed out.

“Your fault. Not mine.”

I liked the soapy cuddles in the tub, his skin so soft on mine. As I washed his hair, and he dotted bubbles onto my chest, I noted, “You need another haircut, my dude.” His hair was curling behind his ears, no sign of the stripes. I guess it was for the best; he didn’t need to wear a cap in school this year. “Let’s go before school starts.”

“You do, too. It’s a wonder you can see.”

“Well, I don’t need to see much nowadays. Just the pups.” And speaking of which– I rinsed us off quick and A.W. toweled off my head so we could quickly return. While he went to the closet, I checked on the pups. They were still asleep, but definitely moving around more, their lips smacking. 

I woke them up gently, and A.W. tossed me a pair of shorts I wiggled into as they did. It would be better to feed them now and then have a chance at a good four hours of sleep without disturbance.

They were sleepy boys as they fed, my milk coming readily. A.W. slipped in behind me, looking over my shoulder to them. “I’m sorry,” he said, “For this evening.”

“Hm?”

“For having to leave.”

I turned my head, nuzzling at him. “Don’t worry about it. We all have our stuff to deal with.”

“Yeah, but I’m a father now. And I had to leave you guys because I couldn’t–” he just trailed off, and I couldn’t say anything in reply. I should have. I knew he was sensitive about this kind of thing. But I was too tired and couldn’t come up with anything besides just snuggling into him.

We burped the pups, then finally settled on down for bed, not knowing what tomorrow would bring.

It brought only more chaos.


	15. Money, Money, Money

He was called over by his parents almost as soon as we got up, and I insisted on going with him, strapping our two pups onto my chest with a sling-scarf. 

Of course, the issue was about what my father had called them about last night.

A.W.’s beta mother was sitting across from him, her shoulders hunched, fingers steepled. His alpha mother was in her uniform, ready to leave for the day, but stuck around for this. “You fought with him again, didn’t you?” she asked to start out.

A.W.’s scent was sour, his expression dark. That was all the answer she needed. 

I cut in, explaining, “My father saw the bill for the well-check and vaccinations and blew up. Since he feels he’s paying the majority of child support.”

“Yeah, I know,” she replied, mouth flat. “He told me as much… more colorfully. He told me other stuff besides.”

“You guys need to work it out,” A.W. insisted. “We’ve got school starting soon.”

“Our insurance doesn’t cover infant care as well as theirs does. Remember, Milo’s mom jumped on the opportunity to expand their coverage back when he was pregnant. We’ve already contributed to the preparations from before.”

I hesitated, rubbing Jake’s forehead with a finger. Was she saying she… wasn’t… going to pay?

“And why are you telling me this?” A.W. returned, mimicking her posture, leaning on his knees. “What do you want me to do about it, Mom?”

“I’m  _ explaining _ to you,  _ son _ , why we feel it’s fair that the McCoy’s support the pups and their father.”

His alpha mother put her hands on the back of her mate’s seat. “What’s the point of us contributing like that if the money just goes down the drain? Our plan isn’t the same as theirs.”

I tried, “Well, the idea was our plan would still cover the expenses, but then I guess you guys would pay them directly, for your child support.” Her gaze was piercing. “With… a check… or something I guess.”

“Thank you, Milo, but to be frank, we don’t trust what your father will do with that money.” It stung to hear. What, did they think he was going to blow it on drugs or something? That was the same excuse people used when they didn’t want to give to beggars on street corners. Was that how they saw him? Was that how they viewed the family I’d grown up in?

I licked my lips. “Then what will you do? If you don’t pay, he can take you to court.”

The alpha narrowed her eyes at me. Had she seen that as a threat? I lifted my chin, hurt by the idea that she had. They’d been so kind to me– Why was it now that money was involved, it was everyone for themself?

By the end of the day, the threat of court was indeed looming over the Gibbs. My father hadn’t called again.

The next day, he drove over. 

It was a violent argument, and I didn’t know how I was stomaching the fact that I thought he was in the right this time. Instead of paying based on responsibility, it should be a fifty fifty split. Especially considering how well off the Gibbs were in comparison to us right now. 

A.W. and I couldn’t help but get caught up in the middle.

And loyalties were strained so badly that we weren’t sleeping in the same room anymore. Of course he’d side with his parents– he didn’t think they were completely right, but of course, he couldn’t stand the idea of my father being right. 

I spited him by inviting Hannah over to have a sleepover and help me with the pups, so he wouldn’t have to come in and help me burp and change them. 

Hannah was at the base of the nest in front of my laptop, watching Queer Eye, holding Jake as I changed Jordan’s diaper. 

“You guys have newborns, you can’t be fighting like this,” she said as I kicked the diaper drawer shut angrily, bouncing Jordan up on my chest. 

“Well fuck that, we are anyway.”

She sighed. “Kids and money. The two things couples fight about most.”

“It’s our parents’ fault anyway. Them and their damn child support.”

I blew a raspberry on Jordan’s belly and he gurgled happily as I plopped down next to Hannah and his brother. “He didn’t look too happy to be sleeping on the couch.”

“Yeah, well he was the one who chose it. To be honest, I’m just happy he didn’t move back to his parents’.”

“Well, it’s none of my business,” she muttered, stroking Jake’s back as he watched his brother in my arms. “But this has  _ got _ to be resolved before school starts. You finished your summer reading?”

“Not yet. I’m just gonna rely on sparknotes.”

She tutted. “Bad move, McCoy.”

“As long as I graduate and A.W. and I get into the same college– or at least one in the same city– I’ll be fine.”

She pressed a kiss to Jake’s head. “You generally are fine. For all the ups and downs you’ve been hit with.”

I didn’t agree. 

A.W. was the same.

It was three days later when our animosity had died down, and he looked too serious when he told me on our walk with the pups, “Milo, I’m going to get a job. Let me.” I nearly tripped, head snapping to him. He stopped the stroller. “Your dad was right–” Okay, yes I knew that, but– “I need to support you all more.” WAIT–

“No,” I put a hand on his arm. “No, you need to focus on school! You can’t drop out now! It’s senior year!”

“I can always get a GED later on. But if I don’t join the workforce now– well, there’s no telling where we’ll be when we turn eighteen. I turn in two weeks!”

“We’re still going to be dependents! They have to support us!”

“You know that might not be the case.”

I rubbed a hand over my face. “No.”

“Milo–”

“NO!” I pointed in his face. “You promised me when we mated that I’d still go to school! You tried to pull this stunt right after! What’s the point of me going to school if you can’t!?”

I could smell his frustration. “You can be the one to get a better job later on! And  _ then _ I’ll get my GED!”

“College, A.W! I’m talking about college! You can barely do anything without a college degree nowadays! You know that!” I didn’t control him, but if he’d just  _ listen  _ to me!

“If my parents aren’t going to help, I’ve got to pick up the slack somehow!”

“Then we’ll find another way!”

He fell silent, his knuckles white on the stroller bar. His voice was quiet. “We’ve gotta grow up some time.”

I paced one way, then the other on the sidewalk. “No… No, you can’t drop out now.”

“Why does it bother you so much?” he asked scathingly. 

“Cause it’s my fault!”

“Fuck that, no it isn’t, Milo.”

“Yes, it is!” I had my hands in my hair, panic eating out my insides. “Can– Can you just get an after school job or something? Part time? I’ll get one, too, and we can save up, and–”

“If I get a part time job, you can’t. You need to take care of the pups.”

“When they’re older, I can work, too.”

“But not now. We can’t pay for child care now.”

My heart nearly stopped when I realized something. “So, you’re okay with part time? You’ll still go to school? And college? We can both work in college after classes, on days off.”

He sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll settle for part time.”

“Thank God!” I threw my arms around him. 

“A lot of the summer jobs kids had are gonna be open, anyway.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Anything I can get my hands on.”


	16. Visiting Dad at Work

He ended up getting himself a job at ‘Smokin Pete’s BBQ’ on the highway two weeks after school started, a little trailer of an Italian place. I think it used to be a barbeque house. Eight dollars an hour, and he worked from four to ten or eleven most nights, which was six or seven hours a night after seven hours of school. Fourteen hours nonstop. He’d do his homework at lunch and during classes, during the time when we were supposed to be working on our college applications. I often went in for him while he slept like a rock and I was nursing the pups– who still weren’t sleeping through the night– and filled out his preliminary information, everything besides the essays and short answers and major. 

He handed over his every paycheck to my mother to pay for me and the pups. I hated that. It was all for the sake of an adult’s ego. I think I was understanding what he’d been feeling when I’d been pregnant and mopping floors at three in the morning. 

More often than not, unless we both had a test, we were able to bring the pups to school, and I’d use the breaks between classes to feed them.

The days were getting colder as September turned into October, early for the season. The twins were around three months by that point, and our days had turned into laundry lists of things to do. 

I usually was up earlier than my mate, the pups’ slight whimpering alerting me that it was time for breakfast. I’d slip out of the nest, pull them to me, and go downstairs so all three of us could eat. The stairs always creaked and I was always paranoid I’d drop them because they got bigger every week it seemed. 

After breakfast and nursing, I’d go in and wake A.W. up by having his sons pull on his hair and drool on his shirt, dropping them on him as I went to dress. 

“Little fat things,” he muttered to them, his eyes not even open yet. I watched, buttoning up my shirt, as he hugged them close and looked ready to fall back asleep. He couldn’t do it that easily with two squirming pups on him grabbing at his nose, trying to eat his hair. Today, though, it seemed like he could, nearly dead to the world again

I pulled up my jeans, didn’t bother to tuck my shirt, and went to him, running a finger along his cheek. “Morning.” I leaned over him to scent him, Jordan climbing up his shoulder to try and get to me. 

“It’s not, it’s still dark,” he rasped.

“Want me to bring you food, darling?”

He shook his head, eyes opening to slits, grabbing Jake, holding him high above his head as the pup wiggled his arms, mouth open, smiling. “Not hungry.”

“Well you can have breakfast the next time the pups do.” He snorted a laugh. “Not like that!”

“I mean, it’s not my  _ favorite– _ ”

“If you can joke, you can get up! Come on, babe!”

He brought Jake back down to the nest, and sat up, rubbing his face, something between a yawn and a groan coming out of him. “Ughhh– I’m  _ dying _ .” 

“You’re not allowed to die; we have pups.”

Jordan was attempting to climb on top of his knee, and A.W. steadied him, watching carefully. 

I brought him his clothes so he didn’t even have to leave the nest to change, and packed up his laptop and spiral. 

By the time we were heading out the door, him with Jake strapped to his front and Jordan his back, and me with a backpack on each shoulder, he seemed more awake, but he was quiet. He didn’t talk much anymore. I held his hand as we walked to school, refusing to let go even when we were in the building and our classmates and friends were coming up to him to get their ‘daily dose’. Jake was flapping, making noises happily, not quite laughter but close enough to melt my heart. Jordan just peered over his father’s shoulder with his big eyes, curious, but content. 

We had first period together, but today, not second, so we transferred so I had the pups, and Linus carried my backpack. It was surprising how good they were. They took frequent naps in class (same). Jordan hardly cried in the face of the hustle and bustle, all the different scents. Jake got overwhelmed more easily, but it was easy to calm him down with a pacifier until I had a chance to go nurse them. If they started crying in class, and I couldn’t calm them quickly, I dropped them off at the counselor’s and returned to the lesson, which was where they were just before lunchtime.

I swung into Mrs. Green’s little room ready to greet my pups, but instead found my mate with them, hugging them close on his shoulders, and they were calm, maybe even sleeping as he scented them gently. 

“Hey,” I called softly.

“Hey,” he returned. “Mrs. Green went to lunch.”

“So you came down?”

“When I got here she already had the pups.”

“Oh, you came to talk…” I sat beside him on the tiny two-seater couch for students. “Is everything okay?”

He pushed for a little smile. “Just a little stressed.”

“I know,” I sighed. “But you won’t cut down on your hours?” He shook his head. I could only sigh again. “Are thy hungry?”

“Seems like it.”

They were rousing. They could smell me and I smelled like lunch. As I fed them and he rested his head on my shoulder, I attempted, “Uh… You know you can– I’m your mate so– So you can talk to me, too, right?”

“I can.”

“... So?”

“I don’t want to worry you too much. Besides, I get that it might be a little frustrating when you didn’t even want me to do this in the first place.”

I held my tongue at that, instead asking, “Have you eaten yet?”

“What, you gonna feed me, too?” he laughed. It’d happened once. We were both curious. 

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll feed you your  _ lunch _ .”

“Wow, great service,” he sighed, snuggling into me. “But I think I might just want to stay here and nap while Mrs. Green is gone.”

“That’s a great idea,” I murmured, nudging his head with mine affectionately. “I’ll stay with you.”

“No, you don’t have to. You need to go eat so–”

“I’ll eat in math. Everyone’s flexible for me, thank God.” Jake popped off my chest, and I boosted him to start burping, grabbing a burp cloth with my other hand. A.W. did Jordan for me. He helped me slip them back into the harness, and I declared, “I’m going to go give them to someone and then I’ll be back.”

“Our… pack, right?”

“Well, duh!”

I headed to the cafeteria to drop them off with Beaver, strapping them to him and thanking him. Some of our friends wanted to check up on A.W., too, but I had to tell them he was sleeping. That was how I found him at least, his legs pulled up to try and fit on the tiny couch, almost in the fetal position. 

I clambered over and on top of his side, and he whispered, “What if Mrs. Green comes back and you’re here?”

“I don’t care.” I stretched an arm over him, half spooning, half atop him, and rested my head on my other arm. 

“I wanna move,” he sighed, and then flipped over to face me, pushing his face into my throat, sniffing around my neck. I pet his head, kicking a leg over his hip.

“You’re such a good father,” I breathed. “You’re working so hard for the pups and me.” He sighed and it shuddered towards the end. “So take a rest, Epsilon.”

The nap that afternoon got him through the rest of the day. I gave the pups a quick snack just before the next class, and strapped them to him for the afternoon so he’d have some comfort. Something in me knew he needed it. 

I spent some time with the pack at my place (today it was Abby, Linus, Ronnie, and Declan) after school, the group effort helping motivate me to do homework and college apps. It was good to have a group; takes a village to raise a child, is that the saying?

Abby held Jordan and Linus Jake as Abby complained about her cousin getting her car for a month. They watched the pups when I fell asleep on top of my history spiral, transferring notes to A.W.’s. 

Later in the night, Declan was refusing to go home, so we both went to go pick up A.W. from his shift, bringing the pups along. Usually I drove, and didn’t bring the pups (because why would I when I didn’t have an actual driver’s license?) But today was different.

I knew Maya by her description, a tiny omega woman with a drawl much heavier than mine(and her name tag) when she hollered in passing, “Y’all sit anywhere you like!”

Declan nodded. “Damn, he was right.”

I elbowed him. “Rude.” And went to grab a booth while Declan got us two high chairs. The twins would barely fit, but I’d keep an eye on them so they didn’t slip. My eyes were scanning for my mate. I could smell him among the others here. There were only two other customers here, but four more on staff. 

My eyes widened when I spotted him hurrying out of the back, two drinks in hand. He jolted to a stop and blinked a few times.

I used Jake’s hand to wave as the pup laughed, delighted at seeing his Pops.

A.W. took a deep breath, his chest swelling, and a smile forming.

Declan came back with th chairs. “Sup.”

“Oh, you’re here, too,” A.W. said, seeming to deflate just a bit.

“ _ Hey! _ ”

“Lemme drop these off, and I’ll be right with you.”

I snickered, repeating, “Right with you.”

Declan poked Jake’s belly as he laughed, and got him out of the front as I got Jordan from the back, his head on a swivel, looking for A.W.. “He’s in service mode.”

“Well that’s a good thing, cause I haven’t had dinner.”

I almost wiggled in my seat when A.W. came over to us and leaned down to greet me with a kiss. Declan whistled, and A.W. smacked him. He nuzzled up to each pup, talking baby talk as he said hello, and I pulled my phone out to get evidence of what made my heart feel like it was about to explode. 

My mate looked up as I videoed the three of them. “Milo, are you crying?”

“No.” But my choked up voice betrayed me. “It’s just so cute.” Declan rolled his eyes, but smiled. A.W. wrestled the phone out of my hand and turned it back around on me. “Not fair!”

“Now that’s cute.” He cut the video, tossed the phone back; Jordan was fascinated by his apron. “You guys here to eat? My shift’s not over yet.”

“I thought you got off at ten today?”

He shook his head. “Marlene needed me on another hour today. I thought I’d texted you.”

“Well, I wanna eat dinner and stay.”

“Me, too,” Declan added, raising his hand to get our attention. “I don’t want to think about my math test.”

A.W. made a face. “Hell yeah, you can stay.”

“Nice.”

His eyes popped wide. “Shoot, I forgot the menus. One sec.”

I leaned my chin into my hand, giving my other to Jake as he panted happily, trying to get my attention about A.W.. I was already staring. “Its decided. I love watching him work.”

Declan raised an eyebrow. “He’s a waiter. In a pasta shack.”

“Hmm, don’t care.”

Declan entertained the pups by blowing the paper wrap off his straw; they squealed and flailed in delight. 

When A.W. came back with the menus, he wiggled his eyebrows. “Lemme give you the spiel.”

“Do it,” I encouraged.

Declan cut in, “Just so you know, he’s getting off to you running around in an apron and a nametag.”

I turned to him across from me. “You literally only exist to call out other people, don’t you?”

A.W. continued on. “So we’re implementing all day breakfast because why not, so if you flip your menu over you can see all of those options, and you can mix and match between menus. Can I get you something to drink?” 

I narrowed my eyes as he pulled out his lil notepad and pen for orders. “Can you… click the pen?”

He looked me in the eye and clicked the pen open. 

I flipped out, not knowing why that was so  _ hot when he did it–  _ there was definitely something wrong with me.

Declan snapped around my head as I crashed my head down to the table, sobbing with laughter. “Hey, hey! I came to eat. Not to see you discover a new kink.”

“Stop!” I moaned, shaking my head.

A.W. squatted. “Holy shit, Milo, is that actually–”

“NO!” I lifted my head, my ears still red. “I want hot chocolate. Cinnamon. If you have it.”

“I can do that, sweetheart. I was smiling, smug, staring down Declan as he cringed. “Declan?”

“Coke.”

“Got it. Be right back.” He rubbed Jordan’s head in passing. 

As he was bringing our drinks back, passing a booth a little ways up, the two customers he’d been serving asked him, “Is that them?”

He nodded enthusiastically, and dropped off our drinks before scooping up the pups. “This is Jordan, and this is Jake, and,” he pointed back to me, “That’s my mate.” I waved a little before going after my hot chocolate. 

Maya came out of nowhere as A.W. was putting the pups back into the chairs, but Jake was fussing. I held him instead. 

“A.W., they’re  _ yours? _ ”

“Sure they are!” he laughed, he nodded to me, “And my mate Milo. And our friend Declan.”

“God above, I’ve gotta tell Marlene!”

Declan was chuckling. A.W. was just beaming, his hand on Jordan’s head as the pup stared up at him, and Jake was snuggling into me. “So, you know what you want to eat?”

Declan glanced to me first, I nodded him on. “Uh. The buffalo chicken sandwich?”

I was scenting Jake lightly, and told A.W., “Surprise me.”

“Okay.”

Soon a big woman was barreling out of the back to get to us; her excitement was intimidating. I held Jake a little closer. “Nice to meet you all! Oh, your pups are  _ beautiful! _ Identical boys, right?”

“Jake,” I supplied, waving his hand. “And Jordan.”

“And you must be Milo!”

“And this is our friend Declan.”

“Hello, ma’am,” he greeted.

I was more than happy to hear about A.W. here and how hard he worked from his manager, barely able to hold back a grin as she held Jordan, who looked between her and me constantly but didn’t become upset. 

A.W. ended up bringing me some steak and eggs, and since the other couple had left, he got to sit with us for a little while as we ate. I had to keep my food away from Jake in my lap because he kept grabbing at it, so A.W. held him, and pulled Jordan out of his high chair too. 

Just to get a rise out of Declan I pointed out in a smarmy voice, pasting my hand to my cheek. “Aww! What a cute family dinner!”

“Uncle Declan hates that voice,” he grumbled, taking a huge bite out of his sandwich. He drove us home after A.W. helped shut down the place (and snuck us some dessert).

My mate carried both ‘buckets’ ( the pups’ carseats/ portable mini nest) inside, actually smiling as he said, “You know, that was a good way to end the day.”

“We can come visit you more. I can uber with the pups. Or I could leave them with Mom and drive myself.”

He stopped on the front porch so I could open the door, looking thoughtful. “You know what, I’d like that.” 


	17. Sleepover (Disgusting.)

So I took Abby and Hannah the next day; I think Marlene, the manager and one of the owners was happy for my business. ‘Specially because Abby got three different kinds of milk shakes for her family to go. We all knew they were for her and she’d keep them in her freezer despite the fact she was lactose intolerant. 

Since it was Friday, we tried to rope A.W. into some not-very-responsible activities, despite the fact that all he wanted to do was sleep. 

Abby had her arm slung around his shoulders, wiggling her eyebrows as she passed a milkshake around his head. “Come on, Gibbs. If you come, I’ll give you some milk shake.” The motion was hypnotizing the pups in me and Hannah’s arms.

“I’m beat, Abby,” he chuckled, an apologetic crease to his brows.

I pushed into his other side, watching Jordan grabbing at his name tag. “If he wants to sleep we should let him.”

“You’re not coming home?” he asked.

“No.” I took Jordan’s wrists miming a sleeping position with his hands. “We all took a nap today after school and a clusterfuck of feedings. Some someones are hitting their growth spurt.” 

Abby left A.W.’s side to open the car door so Hannah could put Jake in the car seat, A.W. watching over, reminding them how the straps pulled. I did the same on the other side. Hannah offered, “If you don’t want to go home without Milo, you can crash in my room. It might not be the most quiet with us all downstairs, but it’s better than the couch. If not, we can drop you off, right Abby?”

“Yeah. I’m determined to put more miles on this car. Spite miles. It’s been  _ two weeks  _ since my cousin told me she’d have my car back!”

“Murder her,” I suggested, cooing at my pup as I strapped him in, pointing out his brother to him so he wouldn’t feel weird in the still-unfamiliar car. 

A.W. sighed, rolling his apron into a ball. “Sure.”

“No, A.W., you should go home and get some rest. You know you need it.”

“I want to be with you all. I never get time with you and the pups, much less everyone else.”

Hannah patted him on the back. “I’ll even build a new nest just for you if you get too tired.”

“Thanks, Hannah.”

Since none of us were willing to crawl into the way back, Hannah was sitting on my lap in the middle seat in between the car seats as we headed over to her house where Beaver, Declan, Linus, Ronnie, and Matthew were all waiting, sending us pictures of them doing despicable things with whipped cream. 

“Disgusting,” I muttered, as I scrolled.

“Says the one who went into labor with watermelon all over him,” Hannah returned, flipping her hair over her shoulder and into my mouth. 

“Primal,” Abby laughed.

I reached over to Jake as he made eye contact with me, giving him my hand and fingers to mess with. “Y’all suck.”

“And you swallow.”

“ABBY!” Abby glanced to A.W. with a questioning look. He just gave a subtle nod. “ALISTAIR!”

“OOOOOH! First name!”

“Want me to say yours?!” I asked, knowing I’d not quite manage it. “Kaien-nuh-hawi!”

“Nice try,” she giggled. “After me: Kainennenhawi.”

“Kaine– Kainennenhawi.”

“Decent. You’ve got my Iroquois ancestors' seal of approval. But don’t wear it out.”

Hannah’s house was a good place to meet up because she was an only child like Matthew, though we didn’t do it often because her parents resembled mine in some ways: an alpha and omega pair (Guo Ngyuen and Daniel Huang) that perpetuated those heavy stereotypes of how we omegas fit into the world. Tonight, however, they were on a roadtrip with their chamber group, going to play at someone’s mating ceremony. 

It was a tall house that only seemed large from the front with one of those crescent-shaped driveways right at the double front doors.

A.W. and I both got Jake out of the car while Abby got Jordan so Hannah could climb over the seat and see the damage done by the rest of our friends inside. I unbuckled him while A.W. leaned in to scoop him up. I stopped him with a hand on his arm, scooting closer, my eyes falling shut as I scented him. There wasn’t enough time in the day to really claim each other like this. I asked quietly, stroking down Jake’s belly to further calm him, “Are you going to make it? You look exhausted.”

“I’ll crash in Hannah’s room if I can’t,” he rumbled back, switching to scent the other side of my neck. 

Jake was laughing between us, and I couldn’t stop from ducking down to scent him, too, so A.W. did the same. We caught Jordan before Abby could tote him inside and did the same for him. 

Ronnie met us at the door, scooping up Jake from A.W.’s arms, warbling, “It’s Unckie Ronnie! Hi, Jakey! Hi, Jor-Jor! It’s me, your favorite!”

“I’d pay anything for one of them to start crying right now because they saw your face,” Hannah said, pushing past him, yelling at Declan. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY COUNTERTOP?!”

I heard Linus’ soft ‘Oh, shit,’ and laughed.

Ronnie swung Jake around in his arms as he danced back inside, singing some made-up song off-key.

“A.W., you made it!” Beaver greeted, hustling over to say hi to Jordan. 

“I’m dead inside,” my mate responded with a flat smile, but reached forward to ruffle his hair. 

Declan was high-tailing it from the kitchen, Hannah chasing him, aiming a beer can at him, screeching, “I SAID NO DRINKS!”

“I’M SORRY! IT WAS JUST ONE I BROUGHT IT FROM HOME I DIDN’T DRINK AND DRIVE!”

Jake was screaming with laughter from Ronnie’s arms as the big alpha hid behind the omega and pup. I scented Jordan to comfort him from the noise as he turned into my neck, explaining to him quietly, “Declan did something bad, so it’s okay if he gets yelled at, baby boy.”

Linus was trailing them, hands in his pockets, coming for me and Jordan, just greeting my pup with a smile before taking him from my arms. 

Matthew spread his hands, trying to placate Hannah, “I tried to tell him no, Hannah. Just based on principle. I mean, I don’t think it’s a big deal, but we said there wouldn’t be any alcohol, so that’s on him, and–”

Hannah ended up crushing the beer can on top of Declan’s head and they called it even. 

In the kitchen, I went ahead and picked up the can of whipped cream, plopping a dollop into my mouth, too fake-buttery and sweet it made me shudder for a second.

Beaver came up next to me, away from the chaos just outside in the living room, and opened his mouth for some, so I obliged. 

The night devolved into chasing each other around couches with the whipped cream, passing around a huge mug of fancy tea Hannah’s parents liked, making the pups laugh, and in general blowing off steam from the week in ways that showed what imbeciles we were. 

A.W. ended up with washable marker on his face when he fell asleep on the couch in the living room, dead to the chaos that was happening in the kitchen. 

And, shit, maybe that was for the best.

Because the dares had escalated and escalated to the point where I was in the pantry expressing milk into a shot glass for it. I pulled my nursing bra and shirt back down before exploding out with “Booyah!”

“You didn’t have to go in the pantry, you know,” Abby pointed out.

“It’s more dramatic like this.” I held the glass aloft. “Any takers? I can chill it.”

Matthew looked like he was gonna be sick at the thought. Ronnie squared his shoulders, looked down to Jordan in his arms, and said, “If you like it, maybe I will, too.”

“It’s not that bad,” I assured him. “Maybe I’m biased cause it’s not gross to me– since it’s mine and all. Plus I don’t pump, so I don’t let it sit and get nasty.”

Ronnie lifted his chin. “I’ll do it.”

“Good man.” I passed him the glass, exchanged it for my pup, who looked quite interested, sniffing around. Jake was picking up on the scent of fresh milk, too. “Welp. Looks like that got the boys hungry.”

Declan put his hand on Ronnie’s shoulder. “Dude. If you do it, I’ll do it.” He looked to Linus. “Linus?”

“Ahah… No thanks.”

Beaver made a face, but hesitantly said, “Um… I’ll try it?”

“WOAHH! BEAVES!” Declan roared, tackling him with a hug, scenting around his head. “So brave!”

“Get off!”

I guess it made for some kind of effect that I was nursing, sat up on the other counter, as they played chicken with a cup of my milk. 

“I’m sorry, Milo, but the thought of it feels  _ gross _ ,” Ronnie squealed, swirling the milk in the glass. “Cause I  _ know  _ you and it  _ smells  _ like you!”

“I mean, I guess. A.W. didn’t mind it.”

Abby crossed her arms. “You gotta hold it in your mouth for three seconds. No spitting it out.”

“Fuck,” Ronnie huffed. “Okay.”

“It’s gonna hurt less than liquor,” Declan assured him.

“Not everyone’s an alcoholic here, Declan!” He pointed to his chest. “I’m still sixteen!” And then he took a little sip. His eyebrows lifted as he kept it in his mouth, as everyone counted to three. “WOW!  _ Not _ terrible!”

“Um, thanks?” I laughed.

“I don’t like knowing it came from you, but if I didn’t know it was Milo-milk, it’d be fine.”

Declan went next; he didn’t like it as much, and ended up spitting it into the sink, dry-sobbing. “I’m not a pup anymore I don’t like it!”

Beaver was last, and was stoic up until it was time to swallow. It took a few times. “It tastes fine… I think…” He nodded to my boys. “As long as they like it, that’s all that matters, huh?”

I nodded, looking down to my pups, their eyes straining to see the activity behind them. “True that.”

Beaver helped me burp them, and then change them, then Declan convinced me to get him a second cup so he could prove himself, the prideful alpha he was. 

It was one in the morning when the pups were quieting down, falling asleep. I tucked one each in the crook of A.W.’s arm, his head lifting from over the back of the couch when the touch woke him. I stroked a hand over his cheek, whispering, “You can go back to sleep, A.W.. Just hold the pups for me, hm?”

He nodded, but yawned while he asked, “What time is it?”

“One.” I couldn’t stop petting at his face and head. “The pack’s daring each other with milk shots. Declan’s trying to take his with cayenne to ‘mask the scent’.”

“Milk… wait,  _ your milk? _ ” I laughed, nodding, returning his squiffy face. “I mean… Isn’t that a little weird for them?”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s a dare, idiot.” 

He nosed my cheek. “Don’t call me an idiot, idiot.”

“Hey! Asshole.” He was scenting me; I braced my hands by his back, mindful of the pups as I leaned so he could have better access to me. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” he sighed.

“I’ll wake you up when it’s time to leave. Abby’s gonna drop us off. Okay?”

“Okay.”

I left my boys to sleep, returning to the kitchen where Declan had added all kinds of spices from the cabinet to his shot, but still hadn’t taken it. Linus ended up holding his nose for him.

Somehow that transitioned to talking about people at school, even the graduates from last year, then doing some rounds of date, mate, or dead. 

“Sleighton, Braxton, and Jo,” Matthew asked, steepling his fingers. 

“KILL SLEIGHTON!” I called, holding up my carrot stick like a spear.

“I’ll second that,” Linus added. “But I really don’t wanna date Braxton either…”

Eventually Declan asked to the group, “Abby, Linus, or Milo?”

Ronnie took the question, already saying, “I’d kill Milo.”

“Well,  _ thanks _ . Don’t mind the fact I’ve got _ pups! _ ”

“Nothing personal, my guy, nothing personal.” He pointed to Abby. “I’d date you.”

“Thanks?”

“And mate Linus. I like betas, anyway.”

Matthew slid his glass of orange juice from hand to hand on the counter. “I’d date Milo, so he and his pups could survive.”

Declan stifled some laughter. “A.W. would murder you.”

“I’d be  _ so  _ polite dating his mate; it’s fine. Uhh…” He looked between Linus and Abby. “Mate Linus, kill Abby.”

Linus rolled his eyes, but was smiling at the inadvertent praise, the message a kind one: he’d make a good mate.

Things died down from there; Abby made some bad pancakes we ate with what was left of the whipped cream, the pups woke up whining and I fed them.

And Hannah pointed out to me quietly that Ronnie and Linus were nowhere to be seen. 

Of course, the implication didn’t even occur to my absolutely wiped brain until she gave me a pointed look when Ronnie came back from the ‘bathroom’ smelling like Linus, and even  _ that _ didn’t register fully until A.W. and I were back in our own nest at home with the pups. 

In the late morning, when we finally got out of the nest officially, after changing the pups diapers, I asked cautiously, “How’s Linus seemed to you?”

He sighed, “I haven’t been around as of late to notice anything much. With anyone.”

I guess that was right. I didn’t want to start anything, though, so I kept my thoughts to myself, more of an innocent curiosity than a burning need to know if our two friends were turning into something. I’d thought Ronnie liked his sister’s friend? For all I knew, he still did, right?


	18. Dana

A.W. slept pretty much all of Saturday, his designated day off, and as much as he said it annoyed him that he had to take a day off, he sure made use of it. 

The pups were restless, so I took them out of the house so he could get a better sleep, talking to them about things they wouldn’t understand as I pushed the stroller to the park and they looked around at the changing colors of the leaves, the hills turning color faster than the valleys. 

“I didn’t have much time for extracurriculars,” I told my boys, “I mean, I was on the lacrosse team for half of high school, but stopped pretty much when your Dad came back to town. Y’all don’t know anything about colleges, but they look for that stuff.” 

The park was packed with little kids, Omegas doing make-pretend survival games, using pine cones as ‘food’, Betas hogging the swings, and Alphas looking like they were gonna break each others bones with how they crashed into each other on the slides. 

Jake looked a little overwhelmed at the whole loud situation, but Jordan was eating it up, watching reality happen before him; did he know one day soon he’d be able to play like those kids? I pulled Jake out of his bucket to hold him, scenting him as he whimpered a bit, reminding him, “It’s okay, Daddy’s here. Jordan’s enjoying it. I know you would, too, maybe the second or third time we come here.”

A strong scent caught me off-guard coming from behind me and I whipped around, Jake close to my neck. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the alpha woman said, putting her hands out. She was young and tall and thick all around, from big hands, to broad shoulders and hips. “I just thought I recognized you. Are you the McCoy boy?”

I nodded.

“It’s nice to meet you! I work with Jenelle down at the station.” That was A.W.’s alpha mom: Jenelle Gibbs. Police officer. 

“You’re an officer?”

She came around to sit on the other side of the bench. “Ah, no. A secretary. I’ve heard a lot about you and your mate, and now your lovely pups!” She had her eyes on Jake, who was equal parts curious and uneasy at this point, probably thanks to my own unease; I couldn’t help it. “What are their names?”

A.W.’s mom hadn’t told them? “I’m holding Jake.” I reached out to angle the stroller her way. “And this is Jordan.”

“Oh, they’re identical littermates!”

“They are.”

“So, how is school going for you and A.W., it must be hard taking care of the pups and going to classes.”

“It’s not too bad,” I mumbled before remembering to speak up, “We have a lot of help and support from our friends and staff at school.”

She cocked her head, her colored and banded braids falling over her shoulder “You’re bringing them?”

“Yeah, I’m still nursing, so they’ve got to come. It works out well, though.” I stroked the top of Jake’s head, who was now just staring at the alpha– something had changed with him. “For infants, they don’t cry too much. As long as I keep them fed.” I looked back up to the woman. “I’m sorry I didn’t get your name?”

She smacked her knee. “Yeah! Sorry!” She put a hand on her chest politely, not going to shake my occupied hands. “I’m Dana. I’ve seen you around before everything went down, since I grew up here, too.”

“And you never left…” I mused.

“My dad’s having a bad time with his kidneys, so I’m here to help out,” she supplied.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She pursed her lips, eyes soft on my pup. “Can I hold him?”

My gut level was no. Not with Jake. He’d scream. “Jakey’s not too good with strangers, but Jordan loves them. Have you held a pup before? Can you get him out yourself?”

“Yeah, I can.” I kept a careful eye on her as she unbuckled Jordan and held him up for a moment before bringing him into her arms. “Cutie,” she cooed. 

Despite my unease, a twinge of pride lit me up from the inside. Hell yeah they were cute, I’d made them. I just had to share, “Jordan likes to stare at people; that’s just his thing.”

“Aww!”

Hell yeah, he deserved an ‘aw’. 

I was way too happy when I went back home in the late afternoon, the pups already asleep in their stroller. A.W. was, for some reason, asleep on the couch downstairs? My mother was in her nook on the other one and greeted me, “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hey, mom. What’s with…”

“He was waiting for you to get home, but fell asleep again.”

I sighed, “Of course he did.” I pulled the pups out of their buckets, Jordan whining about being moved, and tucked them at his chest and stomach, sitting near his head, tapping his head. “Dude. We’re home.”

His arm went around the pups before he opened his eyes, grumbling, “You left me at home.”

“We went to the park, and ended up meeting your mom’s coworker, Dana.”

He sighed a breath, sending his head into my leg. “Yeah, I know her. She’s a nice chatterbox.”

“Did you work on your applications or essays?”

He groaned. I’d take that as a no. I couldn’t be too worried, though, after all, he’d been catching up on sleep. Jake almost mimicked the sound, and it made us laugh. A.W. curled around them. “And how are my boys, hm?”

I nodded to my mom. “I think I get the whole parent-bragging thing. Dana was giving them so many compliments I thought I was gonna start shooting stars from my fingers.”

She laughed, looking up from her ipad. “Well, of course! For you, they’re the best pups in the entire world.”

“Hell yeah they are.”

“For me, that was you and your sister. And now them.” She looked on them with a soft gaze. “They’re so much better than you or your sister were. Catherine would cry nonstop before she could sit up; she wanted to be self-sufficient. You got upset every time I put you down.”

I smiled. “I remember. I slept with you in the bed until I was four and Dad kicked me out.”

“I would’ve kept you longer,” she hummed. “You’ve grown up so much, but don’t forget, you’ve still got growing to do.”

“I know. I know.”

A.W. was scenting the pups, and my chest swelled as I took in a breath. Even in the midst of chaos: child-support payments, A.W.’s job, college applications, infant pups, we could still have moments like these. Mom had never told me a lot about my younger years when I was still a pup, but I figured moments like these were the ones you hung onto. And ones where we forgot to diaper Jake in the middle of the night and he ended up peeing on his Dad’s face. Thank God it hadn’t been poop. 

The pups and I hung around while A.W. worked, me on my laptop trying to put together scholarship essays, the pups either napping, crying, or laughing when their Dad would shoot them a funny face in passing. 

I hadn’t experienced any real harrassment in public when I’d nursed, but A.W. came and sat with me just in case, getting off his feet for a bit, leaning in to scent me when no one was watching. 

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he began, nudging Jake’s foot out of my ribs. “I’m going to be unemployed once we get to college, at least until I can find a job. And you’re probably still going to be nursing. I’m gonna pressure my parents to pay their child support.”

I raised my brows. This point of contention had been dormant between us for a little while, but I guess he was caving in. “Alright. Like, we’re gonna go over and–”

“No. That wasn’t working. I’ve been calling,” he sighed. 

“I’m gonna take them to court. Or at least threaten to.”

I balked. Jordan unlatched, gurgling unhappily. I got him to relatch before he started crying. “Court? We don’t have money for a lawyer! My dad would never pay for that– I don’t even think he  _ can _ at this point!”

“Key word ‘threaten’, Milo.”

“Well  _ they  _ know we can’t afford a lawyer!”

“It’s worth a shot. We’ve got to do something.” I was looking him in the eye; for the first time in his life, they matched mine, the dark circles I came by so easily now stamped under his eyes, the expression I’d seen in my mirror was now on his face, something grim, something that told you you just had to suck it up and move forward, no matter how miserable you were. There wasn’t another way. I’d been good at taking things lying down, and it had kept me safe all these years. He hadn’t been. It’d gotten him beaten up at school, mocked. But at least he’d done it. 

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

We were both prepared to play dirty.

We treated it like a project, working together late at night when we should have been doing homework or sleeping to compile evidence. 

A.W.’s next day off was Thursday afternoon.


	19. Playing Dirty

We went over to his parents’ house in the evening without warning them, leaving the pups with my mother. 

His beta mother was reading a book in some baggy jeans; she’d gotten a haircut, the back of her neck freshly shaved. His alpha mother was in the kitchen, digging through the fridge, pulling out lunchmeat and cheese-spread tubs as well as a sushi box from the grocery store, despite the work she was singing happily, and when we walked in, it was Jolene by Dolly Parton.

“Moms,” A.W. greeted.

Terry looked at us from over her square reading glasses, her jaw tight, as if already smelling out her son’s mood and potential purpose. “A.W., Milo. Nice to see you two. Where are the pups?”

“They’re with my mother,” I supplied, glancing to A.W., wondering if he was going to come right out and say it or if he would soften the mood. 

Jenelle came out from the kitchen, a bewildered smile on her face. “Hey, you guys! Uh… Why’re you here?”

I nodded slowly pursing my lips. “Figured we should talk.”

A.W. barged right into his home, sitting on the couch across from his Beta mother. I trailed behind, uncomfortable, wondering where Lenora was. “Listen. I’m about damn near killing myself trying to make up for what you guys refuse to pay. I’m considering taking a night job every other day down at the quarry. Milo’s still nursing. We can’t keep up with expenses– we decided it doesn’t benefit the pups any if we have to drop out of high school just to keep them fed. Or college, for that matter.”

Terry closed her book, folded her glasses up. “Go on. Where’s the point, A.W.”

He swallowed. “We’re both turning eighteen this year– hell, you guys missed it.”

“We called. You were working.”

He rubbed his face with a hand. “Right. Sorry.”

I picked up the slack. “That gives you less incentive to pay childsupport. But it’s still needed.”

A.W. got back on track. He needed to be the one to say this part. If it came from me, it wouldn’t seem as serious “If you don’t start paying. We will take you to court. And you will be in the wrong in the eyes of the state.”

Jenelle circled her mate’s chair, pacing in front of it, looking down to her son. “You came here to threaten us?”

“You’re not being very responsible.”

Terry choked on a laugh. “Well that’s ironic.”

My skin physically stung with heat at the barbed comment. I remember back then thinking that they’d be my new family once my parents kicked me out. They’d given me a place to stay, they’d been supportive and affectionate. Had money changed all that? Our mistakes– my mate’s and mine– were weighing heavily on me as I thought. I took a deep breath. Omegas were good at playing upon emotions. Let’s see how far I could get, as stunted as I believed mine to be. “You were both so supportive and loving before the pups came. You gave me a place to stay our first pregnancy scare. You let me stay with you when my dad tried to drag me back. You worked well with my parents. I–” I was losing steam. “Even if it wasn’t government-mandated, I would’ve thought you’d be generous in helping us– your pup and grandpups– anyway…”

A.W. was growling in his throat, and the sound made my eyes widen. “I know you can pay it. It’s just that you  _ won’t _ .”

Jenelle was right there to meet him, snarling close to his face. “Don’t you start, A.W..”

He was angry, but under that, merging more and more, he was upset. “I just don’t get it, Mom! I really don’t!” She softened at the name, but was frowning at him like he was still a problem she didn’t quite know how to solve. “We need you–  _ I _ need you, and you’re not giving me  _ anything.  _ Not support, not the money, not–”

“Oh, baby,” she sighed, bending, beginning to scent around his head.

He jerked away, yelling, “Don’t you scent me!” She was startled. “You think you can make everything better by covering it up, but you’re no help where it really matters!” I slipped a hand to his arm, afraid he’d jump to his feet to fight, my jaw tight, sending out calming pheromones.

Jenelle returned to her mate, standing behind her, hands on her shoulders. “That’s something we won’t do. We have our reasons.”

“So say them,” I pushed, holding her gaze.

She tightened her jaw like mine. Paused. Then bit out from around a growl, “You’ve made one mistake too many; first the pregnancy scare, then the mating. The pups were the last straw. And we’ve done our part supporting you from the beginning.”

A.W. was looking at Terry. He was no longer explosive. He stood, approached her. “Mom–” But before he could finish, get any closer, Jenelle was blocking him from her, snarling something awful, making A.W.’s hackles raise. “You think I’d hurt her? You think I’d hurt either of you? Is that what you  _ fucking _ think of me?” he spat. He turned his back to them, and his weariness could not be contained when he set his gaze on me. I took that as the signal. We were leaving. He did look over his shoulder though, telling them, “This isn’t over. You’re making me choose between my parents and my pups. I’ll have to choose my pups every time.”

There was something different about his anger once we were outside, probably because he was exhausted. The scent of burning rubber was damp. He shivered at the sudden cold the nights brought, and I sidled up to him. “I’m sorry,” he hissed. “I yelled. I wasn’t supposed to and I did and I blew it.”

“You didn’t blow it.” I slipped a hand under his jacket, rubbing his back. “You did what needed to be done, Epsilon.” He turned to scent me hard before turning aside. 

His head hung low. “I guess now we really do have to take them to court.” He turned his head away from me, biting out a cuss, his whole body tense. He took a deep breath. “I’m– I’m gonna go work this out. I can’t come home to the pups like this.” He pulled away from me. 

I wanted to stop him. “Where are you going to go?”

“Either Declan or Abby’s, same as usual.” 

He’d taken to using our alpha friends as outlets, since they were up the ladder from him dynamic-wise. Declan was always down to wrestle or fight. Abby not so much. They watched over him while he expended his anger, subdued him if he was about to hurt himself by punching a tree– which had almost happened, I’m told. It was a good enough system. Both parties were willing. So why did I feel achey as I let him go.

I sped after him. “A.W., wait!”

He looked around to me, his lips pursed. 

“I want to come.”

“Milo–”

I tried to connect the words in my head. “It feels like every time this happens–, like, every time you get really angry, you hide it from me.” He was silent. “You don’t have to. So why?”

I could see his throat move. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

I scoffed, trying, and failing, to lighten the mood. “We were friends– I mean we  _ are,  _ but… we were best friends before we became mates.” I puffed out my chest. “And hey, I may not be an alpha, but I can hold my own. If– uh– you wanna wrestle?” He was staring at me. I fiddled with my fingers. “Or– Or run– maybe punch some stuff– not me, of course, but–” I gave up. “Or, I can just come with you. The pups will be fine for a little while longer.”

“Okay.” I looked up in surprise. “Let’s go.”

We’d never been afraid of the woods. Not growing up. Not now with a chill in the air and darkness concealing everything, the trees filtering out moonlight. 

Going behind his house, we passed the stump I’d propositioned him on, and I nearly faltered in following him. It felt like we’d been so young. In reality it was about a year ago. I wondered if that same kind of flower would grow in the area…

A.W. had stalked on ahead of me, and I jogged to catch up, shoving my hands in my pockets. I didn’t know where we were going, if he even had a place in mind, and how he’d find it in the dark. Maybe ten minutes in, I realized where we were headed, and ran on ahead just to see it– the old train cars in the middle of the forest. 

My face fell when I heard voices, noticed light. I stopped where I was, kept my breathing down, instinctively moving downwind so the other group could not scent me out. 

If I peered close enough, I could see their features. Kids from Wren’s school it looked like, maybe one from ours, an omega boy named Ash. I think he was two years younger than us, so a sophomore at this point. He was in someone else’s uniform skirt, holding it close to his legs, squatting and poking at the little campfire they’d made. It was innocent how another kid was roasting a marshmallow next to him. Less so what the older kids were smoking behind them. A.W. and I, and sometimes Declan and Linus and Ronnie had contributed to the graffiti on the cars behind them, a backdrop for their own delinquent activities. 

I leaned into A.W.’s touch as he laid a hand on my shoulder. “Are you worried about our box?”

“No,” I replied. 

He moved on. I followed, deep into the woods.

He began to pace in a small clearing, his hands moving, fingers digging into his palms, shaking his head, biting his lips.

It looked manic.

I was glad he’d always had someone with him.


	20. Blowing Off Steam

I wasn’t sure what to do for him besides enter the clearing, spread my stance, and ready my hands. “Come at me, bro.”

He snarled a laugh as he stalked toward me. “Don’t you call me bro after everything we’ve done. Nasty.” There was something too-primitive about the anxiousness I felt as he came closer. As an opponent. He was larger than me, for one, his shoulders broader, stronger, his hands larger for gripping and grappling. His teeth that resembled a beta’s were sharper where the premolars were. It was dark, the moonlight was scarce, and he was emitting such rage, even though none of it was directed at me. 

I knew why he always went for alphas now. 

It felt like we were playing a game of Mercy as our hands met, that game where you bend your opponent’s palm. I dug my nails into his knuckles and he only laughed. I bumped his forehead with mine, blowing in his face. “Don’t laugh when I’m trying to inflict pain and be intimidating.” 

He shoved forward, and I danced backward, finally getting a foothold. “Tell me when I’m being too rough,” he huffed, and then, like a  _ hypocrite _ , he ducked under my shoulder and tried to twist me to the ground. 

I grit my teeth, hanging onto him, not letting him throw me. I kicked my leg out, catching him square in the knee, and he buckled with a snarl. “Me, too,” I heaved, wrapping my arms around his neck, forcing his head down. 

He plowed into me head first, hands feeling like they’d leave bruises on my sides. The leaf mulch gathered behind my heels as I tried to dig in. 

I don’t know when I’d started growling to match his, but there we were, grappling each other onto the forest floor, like some violent version of Twister as we both attempted to stay on top. 

I knew he was holding back as he slammed me to the ground, but it sure didn’t feel like it as I struggled to catch my breath. 

He broke in his growl, panting, “Fuck, sorry, Milo, are you–”

I flashed a feral grin, reaching up, using his shoulder to roll over him and squeeze around his throat. “I’ll play as hard as you want to.”

Yeah, I said that, trying to be tough and shit, but then he flipped me off his back and I couldn’t breathe for a good five seconds. He looked like he was about to straddle me, and I almost let him, before something in me had me leaping up, bowling him over, trying to ram him into a tree.

Something had changed in that moment. 

Maybe it scared me the way he twisted me violently, gaining the upper hand. But I think I liked it, too. Why would I have a breathless grin on my face otherwise, trying to see his face, trying to inhale his scent. 

I wiggled away, my omega instincts liking this too much, liking putting him through his paces and making him work for it. And shit, maybe plain ol’ Milo did, too. 

He chased, and I almost froze up, knowing if he really wanted to hurt me, he could. But he had this different look in his eyes, too, his scent was changed so slightly away from anger, more into the realm of frustration: he wasn’t angry anymore. He was aroused. 

God, I capitalized on that. 

We met head to head bent low, pushing with our hands, panting. I was seeing him eye to eye and it made my stomach fill with excitement. I slipped my head away from his, nipping at his scent gland before darting away. That just made him follow me even more closely, his growl resembling my purr more than anything else right now. 

This wasn’t just wrestling anymore. 

I shoved into him, tried my best to get him off his feet; he tripped me at the same time and down we fell, both struggling to twist the other around. I’d gotten an arm around his throat, but before I could do anything with it, he flipped me, holding my hips steady. 

I attempted to wriggle away, not done just yet, but all thoughts of that flew from my brain when he licked a long stroke up the back of my neck. 

As he reached around my shoulder, I snapped back to myself, trying to pull myself out of the situation.

He leaned over me, and bit down into my mating mark, and went limp with pleasure and submission, falling to my elbows, though my knees stayed up. I whimpered out, still trying to catch my breath, “That– That’s not fair…”

“I chased you around long enough.” His hips pressed up to mine. “Besides, you’re presenting so nicely.” His hand stroked down my side, and I shivered. I wasn’t agreeing, but… I tried to wriggle away again, just to test him, and he bit me again, teeth staying latched into my mark as I whined. He let go, asking, “No?” as he licked around the bite, taking in my scent. 

I shifted. “Not– Not no…”

He laughed, “What’s not a no, then?”

I murmured into my forearms, “Yes.”

He scented at my upper back, pressing into me more. I could feel how ready he was. “Do you want it here,” he slipped a hand to my crotch and I jolted, mouth falling open, my panting picking up, “Or here?” that hand slid backward to where I was already slick; I could feel the mess.

“There.”

“Here?” He pressed his fingers to the spot through my jeans and I huffed a breath, nodding. He nudged my knees apart with his and I was shaking a little, from exertion, from excitement, from everything. 

But even as he touched me, and I held my hands to my mouth, my knees were slipping in the soft earth. I couldn’t keep them up. 

He wrapped an arm around my middle. “Okay, get up?”

I did, the blood rushing from my head, my body all twitchy and sensitive. He spun me to him, and I murmured right as he was about to kiss me, “I hope this doesn’t happen when you wrestle with other people.”

He laughed at the joke and dove in to kiss me, his hands at my hips, creeping under my shirt, and before I knew it, we were pulling it off. I had my eyes closed, dizzy as he scented me. I couldn’t stifle a gasp when he brushed his fingers over my bra-covered chest. “You seem swollen here.”

“We should hurry.” He helped me pull off the bra and I didn’t know how to feel about the fact that I was leaking so much. He bent down, licking. “H-Hey! That’s the pups’ dinner!”

“I won’t drink it,” he murmured, “I’m just cleaning you up a bit.” I couldn’t control my breathing as he licked at my chest, my stomach. I couldn’t stop shaking. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking up, and I was done for when I looked into his eyes, getting a stronger whiff of his scent. 

I nodded, pulling him closer by his shirt as he straightened up. “Hurry?” I was grinding up against him, looking up into his face as his eyes fell shut and his mouth fell open, a soft groan coming from him. 

He faced me at the closest tree, telling me, “Hold on.”

Well, today was the day I finally got fucked up against a tree. 

I gripped my fingers into the bark, using my nails, shimmying my hips a little to help as he tugged down my jeans, my wet underwear.

It tickled when he kissed at my rear, made my stomach clench up. He straightened up, and my insides squeezed in anticipation as I heard his zipper go down. He rubbed against me a few times, as if trying to gauge how tight I was going to be. He pushed, but never breached, and I couldn’t stop my voice. Especially not when he finally pushed all the way in, slow and steady.

And then hard and fast.

As he rutted into me it felt like he was getting out all of that anger and frustration from before. His hands were tight on my hips, even as my knees buckled every so often, keeping me up. The way he entered me time and time again was rough, and especially when he shifted to change angles–

His breath was cold on the back of my sweat-slick neck as he marked me up.

I looked down as I felt myself getting closer and closer, trying to watch the place where we merged, trying to watch him enter over and over–

I gasped and flinched as I came, shivering with pleasure, even as I painted my face and chest with white. 

He shifted, like he was about to pull completely out, but I swung a hand around, trying to grab at his hips, trying to get him to stay. “Inside,” I panted, “I want it inside. A.W.–”

I had to ground myself again as he slammed into me and finished quickly, closing my eyes to hear his voice, to pay attention to the stretch, then pull, of his knot, and how amazingly heavy with him my insides felt. Even his hands were shaking when he finally let go of my hips, slowly leaning forward and into me, going deeper as we both lost our breath from that movement. He kissed down the side of my neck, and asked in a ragged voice, “Are you okay?”

“Course I am,” I purred back, rolling my hips back against him slowly. Slowly. I enjoyed every one of his little moans and hisses.

He was looking over my shoulder. “Made a mess?”

I guess I had. He pulled me upright, and we both went slowly, knowing how this went– we didn’t want to hurt each other with any sudden movements– and, his back now against the tree, he slid down with me in his lap, turning my face his way, laughing softly, “Yeah, you did get messy.” He began to lick at my face, a hand on my chin to angle me to him, and I closed my eyes, listening to the far, far off sound of cars, the echoes of night birds, and the chilly wind rustling the trees. He licked across my lips, and I opened my mouth so we could kiss. “Are you cold?” he asked, ducking under my arm, boosting me up a little. My eyes went wide at the pulling his knot did. 

“N–No. Not too cold, no.”

He hummed a reply as he licked across my chest and throat. Once I was clean enough, he grabbed my shirt from the ground, shook it out, and pulled it over my head. He went as far as to pull my hoodie back on, and he shucked his to use it as a blanket for my bare legs. We did forget the bra, though. 

When his knot went down, he leaned me forward onto my knees, and pulled out.

I shivered as I felt wetness dripping down my backside, hot in comparison to the cold air around us. I spread my knees a little more. Soon, something else warm was back there: his tongue. I moved back against him gently, sighing at the feeling as he cleaned me up all over. 

I laughed as he left a quick kiss on one of my cheeks before helping me get into my pants. “You’ve got dirt all over you,” he told me, leaning forward to scent. 

“You do, too, you know.”

He sighed, “That was so good, Milo.”

I bit the inside of my lip as my stomach did a happy little flip. I turned my head to his. “Yeah.”

We really knew it was time to get back when my chest began to ache a little, needing a let-down. 

The pups started crying the minute I entered the house, curled up on the couch with my mom, their little arms reaching for me.

My heart ached a little at the sight and I immediately went to them.

“Did it go well?” my mom asked as I wasted no time in getting my suddenly milk-soaked shirt off me to feed my pups, not daring to sit on the couch with my dirty jeans (yes, dirty with  _ dirt _ ).

“It did  _ not _ .”

A.W. ran a hand over my head in passing. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Wait! Wait for me!” I tried. Mom helped me scoop up my boys, holding them at my side like two sacks. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be back down for something to eat.” I went slow so as not to unlatch them, and A.W. looked surprised to see me there. “I’ve got dirt, too.”

“Did you want a bath? Cause we’re gonna have to shower before that.”

I sat on the floor so as not to get anything else dirty while A.W. went first in showering off the mud, humming a song that probably should never be sung to a child. 

Once the pups were done, A.W. took them to burp them while I hopped in the shower, then drew a bath, and I don’t know why, but the pups wanted seconds after that, so I nursed them in the bath, too, A.W. leaning his arm on the ledge as he faced us. “They’re getting so big,” he murmured, wiggling one of Jake’s feet. “I remember when they actually fit in your arms.”

It was hard to manage both of them without support from pillows anymore. “You’re telling me.”

After the family bath, we nested, A.W. falling asleep on my chest, Jake on his arm and my stomach, Jordan wiggling around trying to grab at his brother’s feet. 

I was texting Ronnie.

: DUDE ARE YOU AWAKE I KNOW YOU’RE AWAKE

It took him exactly nine minutes but he replied : Wat

: RONNIE. RONNIE. OKAY SO A.W. AND I WENT TO CONFRONT HIS PARENTS ABOUT CHILDSUPPORT, RIGHT?

: Oh yeah how did that go?

: TERRIBLY BUT THATS NOT THE POINT

: Uhhh okok so whyre you in all caps?

: Because instead of him going to wrestle with one of our alphas, I made him stay with me and it was great!!!1!

: Ohh cause he was angry?

: He was SO angry and tired and I kinda felt useless so I wantd to help my mate cause you know i love my mate and at first it was scary tbh

: i mean he is an epsilon and youre an omega. Makes sense.

: No noNO BUT THEN IT WAS SO HOT DUDE. 

: Are you about to tell me about your sex life?

: I am areYOU READY FOR IT/

: … I guess?

: HE. WAS. SO. HOT.

: Is that all you have to say?

: Listen if you want me to go into specIFIC specifics I willll buttttt–

: Not tOO Specific or I’ll block you. 

: Lol fine. So we were wrestling, right, and, you know me, I kind of wanted to win, but at some point, i thought it was fine to let him win but I WANTED HIM TO WORK FOR IT. 

: lolol as you do. Its instinct

: yeah yeah, so you know what this guy does? You know what he fuking does?

: WHAT DOES HE FUNCKINGFF DOOO?

: He bites my mating mark. Which aint fair. But I mean… it was GOOOOD 

: NOICCCEE I dont have a mating mark but scent gland’s good too, tho. Brings a lil bit of dangr ;)

: Wait what? You’re with someone? 

: Well not really no

: Oh… Any details you wanna share? WAIT IS IT YOUR CRUSH?

: You dont even know if its current or not and its not

: I would if youd tell me

: No. dont wanna

: Thats fine I guess

: I know. 

I stared at my phone screen, puzzled, something like a scowl stuck on my face. I mean, I guess that’s his business, but why wouldnt he tell me of all people? 

: Milo I gotta go to bed ive got bio test tomorrow

: yeah me too. Good luck and goodnight

: see you tomorrow

Even after I put my phone aside, I couldn’t help but wonder all kinds of things. It was killing any chance of sleep I’d get. I poked A.W, hissing, “A.W.. A.W..”

He dragged in a deep breath. “What? Whatsa matter?”

“Do you know if Ronnie’s seeing anyone?”

He turned his head into my chest, coralling Jordan in with his far arm. “You woke me up for  _ that _ ?”

“Yeah.”

“No. I don’t know. I’m the person who would know the  _ least _ .  _ Good night. _ ”

I landed a kiss on his head. “Yeah, yeah, good night.”


	21. It Wasn't An Accident

I didn’t ask Ronnie about it the next day, and tried my best not to look around him and meddle. Lord knows I had enough of my own problems to deal with. 

On Saturday, A.W. got extra time off and ended up coming to the park with the pups and me. Jake, for one, was happy to have his Dad in the still-unfamiliar area. A.W. walked them around the equipment, chatting with the kids who were playing, exchaging nonsense for nonsense. 

One kid in particular he seemed to take a shining to, almost as if he recognized him, a tiny omega boy with a giant mohawk of an afro to make up for it. 

Turns out it was Dana’s nephew Regus and that’s why she’d been at the park that time, and this. 

Regus held Jordan as Dana talked to us there on our bench. 

“Well, with another pup in the family, Jordan and Jake will have lots of fun,” she remarked smiling at them.

“Another pup?” A.W. asked.

Her face fell. “I– I’m sorry I guess I just assumed you knew.”

“Another–” he lost his breath. “My parents?”

She nodded, her smile trying to return. “Jenelle was looking at the sonogram at work. Keeps it in her patroller.”

I looked to A.W., wide-eyed. He wasn’t looking at anything at all, and he sure as hell wasn’t himself when he told Dana, “I’m sorry, but we have to go,” scooping up Jake, putting him in the stroller, asking Regus for Jordan. 

He was walking at a fast pace. My shorter legs struggled to keep up without jogging. I was intense asking, “A.W. what are you thinking– talk to me.”

He stared straight ahead. “We’re going to drop the pups off, we’re going to get the car, and we’re going to my parents.”

“Is that such a good idea, I mean–” I trailed off, remembering how Jenelle had been so overprotective of her mate, surprised at the memory of her cleaning out the fridge… 

“I’m not going to get angry.” He huffed. “I may cry, but I won’t scream.”

His scent was ambigous, but overall, it was laced with negativity, hurt. 

He stayed silent right until the moment we got there, crashing his head down onto the wheel, “This is supposed to be a happy thing…”

I didn’t reply; I had no helpful words.

Instead of barging in like last time, A.W. politely rang his own doorbell. I asked as we huddled together on the front step, “How do we tell them we know? Do we say congratulations.”

“You might as well. If they were keeping this from us for a reason, then they’re bound to be horrified when you say it.”

I’d say it anyways. It took two tries, but Terry eventually came to the door. She didn’t invite us in immediately, asking, “Yes?”

I went ahead and said it since A.W. wasn’t saying anything. “Um… Congratulations?”

Her scent changed slightly, her eyes widened before relaxing down again. “What do you mean?”

“We, uh… We saw Dana today. Your mate’s coworker?”

A.W. continued. “She said you were pregnant, is it true?”

“No,” she answered, jaw tight. “Do you need to come in?”

“Yes,” A.W. replied, eyes hard on her. She stepped aside to let us in, calling, “Jenelle, it’s A.W. and Milo.” I noted a bracelet she had on, not looking like it matched with her butch style, but rocking it anyways, I guess, cause I recognized it somehow.

Jenelle swept into the livingroom, her hair still in a bun from work. “Boys. If you’re here to continue the conversation from last time, I’m just going to–”

A.W. pointed to his beta mother. “Is Mom pregnant or not?”

Jenelle froze up. “What are you talking about?”

“Dana said–”

Jenelle crossed her arms. “Dana says all kinds of things. Why were you talking to Dana?”

I supplied, “We met her in the park a few times while she was watching her nephew.”

“Regus. Cute kid.”

“Yeah…”

A.W. still looked shell-shocked, but made an attempt at a normal conversation. “So… Where’s Lenora?”

Jenelle leaned back against the countertop going into the kitchen. “In her room. She’s having a heat.” I couldn’t smell a thing.

“Oh…”

I bet he couldn’t smell her either. 

My skin crawled as my eyes snapped back to Terry’s bracelet. It was for seasickness. We weren’t anywhere near the sea.

I remember reading that those same bracelets can help with morning sickness. 

A.W. noticed the sudden change in my scent. “Milo, what’s wrong?” Terry saw where my eyes were, and covered the bracelet with her hand. He noticed that, too. “Mom…?”

Terry looked to Jenelle, sighing. Jenelle ran a hand over her face, shaking her head. 

Terry took a deep breath. “A.W., I  _ am  _ pregnant.”

His face fell, but he attempted a smile. “That– that’s great news! I’m gonna be a big brother! Why are you trying to hide it from me, though?” Silence. “Mom!”

I took his hand subtly. For support. Terry looked him in the eye, answering a question that hadn’t even been asked. “We just… wanted one more I guess.”

“But why hide it?”

“We aren’t going to pay your child support because we need to support this one.”

That feeble attempt at a smile was frozen on his face. “Can’t… Can’t you do both? We’ve been a two-income family for years.”

“We’d just… rather not, you know? The baby wasn’t an accident, so…”

His voice got stronger. “I don’t know. I don’t. Where’s Lenora? Where’s my sister?”

Jenelle spoke up, sounding almost exasperated. “She’s at a friend’s because she didn’t like that decision either, so if that wasn’t going to work for her.” She shrugged.

“... You kicked her out?”

“She’s an adult.”

“She has a mental illness she’s working through!” He took a step forward, tethered by my hand. “So, what, you think you’re gonna start all over? Have a different family?”

“A.W.!” Terry took a step closer, catching his wrist. “We’re all family. Families just… Sometimes, we’re better off with some space between us.”

He was shaking his head. “Mom, what the  _ fuck? _ ”

Jenelle cut in. “Alistair-William, if you go off the rails again, I swear I won’t let you come back.”

He took a ragged breath in, like the words had been a knife, eyes wide on her. “You won’t let me see my sibling?”

“If you don’t get ahold of yourself, hell no.”

He licked his lips, stared at the ground. I squeezed his hand, trying to look down into his face. “You… you still love us, right? Us three?”

“Why would you ask that?” Terry scoffed. “Of course we do.”

He looked up, looked her right in the eye. “Then fucking act like it.” I was tugged along as he stormed out, the scent of how upset he was like a storm around him. The storm brought rain. He was crying before I could even shut the front door. 

He let go of my hand, his grip suddenly limp, and fell to a squat, putting his hands to the back of his head as his face squeezed up, against the setting sun, against the tears. 

“Sweetheart,” I murmured, sitting down on the ground right by him, putting a hand to his wet face, sending out calming pheromones.

He shuddered with a bitter sob and it broke my heart, my breath faltering in my chest. “I knew it,” he choked out. “We’re done. They won’t support us now.” I drew closer, pressing my forehead to his shoulder. “What’re we gonna do?” he asked in a small voice, a young voice. “How’re we going to live with the pups?”

“We do what we’ve always done,” I murmured to him. “We just…” I took a breath. “Move on. I guess.”

He only cried more bitterly. 

I got him into the car, got him some tissues, and held his hand while we drove home, wondering all the same things: What would we do now? If we tried to get child support now, A.W. might be cut off from his family forever. 

He choked himself on a sob, and I had to remind him as we drove, kissing the back of his hand, “Breath, darling. Slow and steady.”

He didn’t get out once we pulled into the driveway, and I rubbed a thumb over his hand. “Do you… Do you maybe want to go somewhere else?”

He bit his lip, his eyes squinted against the tears. “I just want to hold the pups… But, is it okay like this?”

I leaned over the console, began kissing his face. “Of course it is. Of course it is. They love you as much as I do.”

I got him in without much notice from my mom on the couch and hustled him upstairs before coming back down for the pups, excited to see their fathers. 

I got A.W. into some pajamas, but he kept his shirt off, hugging the pups close as he shook. They were curious, emotional, too, like they’d start crying because he was. He held that at bay by rubbing behind their necks, scenting them. I went to the bathroom and returned with a warm, wet cloth to wash his chilled, red face with, wiping around his eyes, his cheeks, his forehead, his neck and throat. He seemed to calm down after that, but his scent was still full of grief. I wouldn’t have thought he’d be betrayed by the idea of a new sibling. But in these circumstances…

I just didn’t want him to hate them. I didn’t know if he already did. 

I lay cuddled up with him as I put the pups on my chest to nurse, brushing his hair from his forehead. “What’re you thinking about?” 

He sighed. “About how they kept that from me. I… It feels like they rejected me or are trying to replace me, or something–” He carefully wiped away another, single, tear that fell. “I know its stupid. Kinda conceited. But still…” He pushed his forehead to my cheek. “And I’m wondering what we’re going to have to do to provide for the pups. Maybe we’re just stubborn wanting to go to college, but you fought so hard for it… You  _ mated me _ for it.”

It felt like we had so many existential questions coming in without any way to answer them, trapped in a state of panic from the not knowing. 

I tried to be practical, thinking it would help ease him. “We’ll just go to a college with low tuition where we can get lots of scholarships and benefits. A state school. And we’ll make lots of friends just so we can get them to babysit for us.”

He managed to laugh. “Underhanded.”

“Hey, we might even have some of our pack in the area!”

“I wish.”

“What do you want to do about school tomorrow?”

“What do you mean?” He sighed into my neck, mouthing my mating mark for a brief moment. “We just go.”

“What if I wanted to skip to take you out on a date?”

He sat up. “Milooo, we can’t skip. Remember last year? What if the pups get sick and we have to stay home?”

I ran my hand from his cheek to his chest and he settled down again. “You had a big shock today. I wanna spoil you tomorrow. Get you back on your feet.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He made a face at Jake and Jordan as they both climbed back onto him, finished with dinner. 

“I won’t push it, but think about it, darling.” I scritched under his chin and he laughed, eyes falling shut. “Halloween’s coming up. We can go buy some cheap costumes for the pups. Dress them up all cute.” He groaned at the possible cuteness, lifting Jake above his head as his pup laughed, legs kicking in delight. I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “A.W.,” I whined, “Lemme take you out on a date? Hm?” He got another kiss, and another. And then Jake got one, and then Jordan messing with my knees. And then A.W. again, and I began to scent and snuggle. “I wanna spoil my Epsilon.”

He sighed, his scent mellow, hints of honey in amid the smoke, blending with mine so wonderfully. “... Okay.”

“Yes!” I headbutted his shoulder. “It’s gonna be great, you just wait. We’ll dress the boys up in all different kinds of costumes– And– And I’ll bring you flowers!”

He laughed an innocent laugh, turning to nuzzle me. “Then I’ll look forward to it.” I darted up and kissed him on the mouth, he’d placed Jake on his stomach, Jordan coming up to be with his brother. “I love you so much, Milo.”

My ears went red, though they shouldn’t have at this point: we were mated with pups. “Love you, too,” I mumbled.

Jordan was having a hard time getting over my leg to get to me, so I helped him along. “And I love  _ you _ and  _ you! _ ”


	22. Thank You

In the morning, I was up early to calm our colicky pups– we’d forgotten to burp them last night. I emailed our teachers letting them know we were ‘under the weather’. Emotionally, that is. And after that, it was breakfast time, for the pups and me and my mother, surprised to see me unhurried by our school schedule. I knew I couldn’t count on her ever, but I was so thankful she helped me make A.W. some pancakes. I tossed blueberries in them, and she showed me how to make sure they were covered all the way with the batter.

I strapped the pups to my chest and back and went out along the roads, in the backyard, looking for flowers to wake my mate up with. I even knocked on our neighbor’s door down the street to ask if I could have some of the tiny blue flowers on the bush in her backyard. She invited me in, and I scored some pumpkin bread as she told me about the seasonal habits of that bush, all of which I didn't understand, all while Jake was trying to steal my pumpkin bread, despite the fact they couldn’t eat solid food yet. 

Jordan was more of a flower-eating boy, and I had to keep the little bouquet I’d gathered out of his hands’ reach. The way he was sniffing had me thinking that maybe, just maybe he was a–

I cut the idea from my train of thought. It was too early to say, and if I had any kind of hunch it was bound to affect them. Best to wait until we were certain when they were older. 

I tied up the bouquet with a piece of string my mom helped me find in our junk drawer, and balanced the pancake plate far in front of Jake where he couldn’t mangle his father’s breakfast. 

The poor guy was still sawing logs when I kicked the door open, and somehow kept on sleeping through the pups’ excited screeching, so I managed to set up the pancakes and flowers all nice for him next to his lap. Then, making sure not to squish Jake, I went full sleeping beauty on him, giving him a little kiss, seeing if that’d do the trick. All it did was make his nose twitch. 

And then, much to Jordan’s screaming delight, Jake hit A.W. on the nose.

My Epsilon jolted awake, fingers dug into the pillows around him in the nest, looking from side to side with wide eyes. 

I frowned down at Jake before asking my mate, “Are you okay?” He finally focused on me and the pups, and I ran a hand down his arm. “Bad dream?”

His voice was hoarse from sleep, still, deeper and quieter. “... Sure.” The sight of the pancakes near his knees, and the bouquet on his leg had his tone changing, had him all softening up as he slouched. “Awww, Milo…” He picked up the bouquet and I leaned in to kiss his cheek, trying to steer Jordan away from the temptation. 

“Mrs. Mayson said we could have some of those blue flowers.” He ran a finger across a petal, his smile so soft I nearly kissed him again before I could continue. I cleared my throat. “She uhh– They came from a bush.”

“Nice,” he laughed. “And… you made these?” 

“Well the pups were really into the flour, so you could say the three of us made them WAIT–” I lifted a finger. “Four. My mom flipped a lot of them.” I reached forward, turned his head to scent him. “I’ve got today all planned out. So don’t you worry bout a thing, darling.” I hoped my conviction would bleed into him.

He hummed, “I won’t.” 

He held Jordan as he ate and me and Jake snuggled up next to him on his shoulder me keeping Jake’s hands busy with a stuffed turtle. Course when A.W. fed me bites of pancake, Jake got upset, but at this point, that was his problem, not mine. A.W. slowly got to talking more, sometimes addressing me, sometimes the pups, and that’s how I knew he was okay. 

I ran the dishes downstairs, and he changed the pups into something easy for us to get them in and out of: snaps were key. Buttons were of the devil. 

As we were headed out the door, my mother called to us, “Send me pictures!”

Lucky for us, our local family dollar store had stocked kiddie halloween costumes. 

Some were too big, others too detailed, the pups getting frightened and fascinated at the sight of each other dressed in little skeleton onesies. 

What took the prize though, better than the firemen and all the character costumes, were the pumpkins. They were rounded out and made the boys look like little dumplings. They still couldn’t sit up by themselves, so I had A.W. hold them upright as I snapped pictures, babbling nonsense as my senses were overloaded by the cuteness. It was my mistake that I ended up scenting the pups in those costumes, so of course we had to buy them. Hannah would be proud of me; she always said there wasn’t anything a little binge shopping couldn’t ease. And the wonderful company of my family took care of the rest. 

A.W. and I talked about things that didn’t matter as we drove out of town to a better restaurant. 

“And don’t forget homecoming,” he said, hands relaxed on the wheel. “That’s before halloween, right? Or right after?”

“Before. It’s  _ always  _ before, you dumdum.”

“Don’t call me dumdum in front of the pups!”

“They’re sleeping anyway!”

He cut his gaze to me, looking out of the corner of his eye, and I was taken back to that time last homecoming when I’d come onto him during my heat. I reached over, took his hand, and gave it a kiss on the knuckles. 

His scent was light and airy, the honey sweet in the mix. 

“My Epsilon,” I hummed, scenting at his hand, at the back of it, losing his skin’s tan from the summer, at the palm, dry and rough from so much cleaning at work. “It’s been a year.”

“How long after I came back did we get together?”

I counted days in my head, it seemed like longer than it actually was with how much happened in a short period of time, how many heats I’d had, which were supposed to come monthly or bi-monthly, all those awful “dates”, all the college preparation, all the drama in school. “Two or three months?”

“Damn.”

“What?”

“Just wishing I’d had a chance to actually court you.”

I laughed, letting go, folding my hands behind my head. “You’re welcome to start at any time!” I took it back, thinking aloud, “Well I guess you kind of were courting me.” I smirked at him. “You didn’t want anyone else to have me. You scented me before every date.”

“Okay, but the excuse actually worked,” he protested, frowning. “It kept them from going after you too hard. I was being a good friend.”

“Yeah, and I had a fucking  _ massive  _ crush on you.”

He stuck his tongue between his teeth as he grinned. “Aww, babe, you had a crush on me?  _ Embarrassing! _ ”

“HEY!”

“Don’t wake the pups,” he reminded, voice smooth as he fucking  _ teased _ me. 

I crossed my arms, looked out the window. I mocked in a different voice, “‘Don’t wake the pups’ he says.” 

“Our little pumpkins  _ need naps! _ ”

I was slowly starting to smile. I wanted to be the one to tease him. Tonight I would. “Are you telling me you  _ didn’t _ have a crush on me?”

He pulled his gaze off the road for a split second, looking me right in the eyes, and some kind of unnamed emotion flowed through me: heat and comfort, peace and thrill, a controlled kind of passion. “No. I was in love with you.”

I couldn’t breathe. 

“And it wasn’t–”

“Wait, wait,” I protested, trying to look less flustered than I was, looking straight out the windshield, fingers splayed out over my knees to keep them from clutching at how full my chest was feeling. His words were doing that. And I could pick up on how much he loved me. It was in his scent, in his voice, in the softness of his eyes, and how he mixed the seriousness of it, to convince me, and the humor, to make me laugh and relax. 

He gave me a little smirk, eyes continuing to flick to mine.

I couldn’t get a hold of myself. 

Once we were in the driveway, I threw off my seatbelt and clambered over the console, needing to return all that in ways I knew how. I had to be close to him. I wedged my rear between his leg and the console, leaning back into his lap, into his chest, scenting, managing to get out a little, ‘Thank you’. 

His hands came to my face and he leaned down to kiss me. 


End file.
